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sleepsleepnotwoke · 2 months

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April 15.

6:30 : I woke up. Liv was having bad dreams. I had 2 coffees and got dressed while consoling her. I didn't wanna go to work. I grabbed leftover dinner from the fridge, switched my insoles from my rubber adidas to my cheap jordan work shoes, grabbed my backpack and tool bag and went out to my car.

8:00 : I showed up at the office. Its liv's exam week so she doesnt need a lift to school cause theyre all online. I'm always early. Today my drive took me about 10 minutes. I left late and everything. Mondays I go to the office, most other days I just show up where I'm needed. B***** the office lady is taking some time off (I guess), and as usual I show up before the boss. I clock in and clean some old cardboard and garbage from the warehouse. I have a chat with L***, the architect. He tells me about some DJ software he uses and tells me he ran a DJ company for weddings and graduation parties for 26 years. Every time we chat he always reveals something cool like that. After a bit I go out to the front room of the office and hang out with Z**, S*** and N*****. J**** is late, as usual. After a while chatting like that, I check my phone and realize I had a call from my dad (who is also my manager). He says there's a couple of things to do around some properties out in A**********. I like those properties cause nobody is really out there except for R****, the super of the property. He's nice enough but he always talks about stupid shit and doesn't listen back. That's one thing, he's old so I kinda expect that. But if he catches you out by his properties he'll give you all kinds of work that's his responsibility but he doesn't want to do. Luckily, I avoid him as I pull into Building A.

10:00 : Unit 302 has some pretty bad water damage. I throw on the new Super Eyepatch Wolf video to listen to while I work. Above the window is a huge sheet of drywall, heavy, warped, and half fallen out of place. I start by trying to slice it up. I saw and saw and saw with my utility knife. I make a cut about 2 inches into the sheet. No dice. I decide hitting chunks off with my hammer would probably work better. I give it a hard whack and make nothing more than a small dent. Awesome. It looks like the repeated wetting and drying have turned the naturally flaky, wafery drywall to what is equivalent to a solid piece of cement. At this point, my grade 11 and 12 auto shop teacher's words ring in my head. "There are surgeons, and there are butchers. You should aim to be a surgeon, but butchers exist for a reason." I start tearing down the sheet with my hands, careful not to disturb the L-bracket that holds the bad piece of drywall to good ones around the window. From the ceiling falls several dead wasp nests and what appears to be a birds nest. No critters in there. Lucky me. I pack up the debris I've made and toss it in one of the garbage bins around the property.

11:30 : this is why I like a********** properties. Nobody ever does anything around here. At the end of my last little bit of work, I cleaned up the hole I made with my knife. With that solid drywall, my blade broke off like I was trying to carve the hole out of a lemon wafer stick. I just spent the last 20 minutes fucking around, trying to find a new blade. Nobody breathing down my neck or telling me to get back to work. It's kinda nice. Once that's done, I remember I was told to help out cleaning up the properties. Normally what that entails is moving garbage people are too lazy to throw in the garbage bin from the side of the bin to the inside of the bin. At the main hub I go to at this property, the bins are overflowing with junk and there are 4 twin sized box springs, 2 couches and several bags of garbage to the side. Hm. Down the line of houses and apartment buildings on the street, lots of bins that are much emptier. Guess I'm doing some hauling.

11:54 : I've scoped out some empty bins, and I've thrown some couches and shelves into them. I never ate breakfast, so I eat lunch. Today, I will be eating leftovers, a luxury I don't normally have. Normally, I'd eat at Wendy's, A&W, or grab something from the hotplate at the Foodland around the corner. But today I'm eating the Thai chili chicken on fluffy jasmine rice I made yesterday. Saving money never tasted sooooo good. At this point I'm listening to a video from one of my favourite channels, ANIKI, about the history of the yakuza from the 17th century to today. I grab a seat in my car, roll the windows down a crack because it's getting hot out (finally) and chow down.

12:05 : I finish lunch. During lunch, I think about how my car really needs an oil change, and how sometimes the "check coolant" light pops on. With the weather changing, I understand the latter and that doesn't worry me. The former? A little more pressing. There's one mechanic I trust in town. It's hours are the exact same as my work hours. I use my car for work so I can't just drop it off and pick it up at the end of the day. And one of those "half hour oil and tire change" places? Forget it. My mom got one of those a month ago and she's had nothing but trouble with her car since, from them explaining she needs a new fly wheel which she didn't pay for, to a transmission fluid flush that she did pay for, which immediately sprang a leak, stopped working, and needed to be repaired at the garage I trust that I mentioned earlier. I can change oil no problem, I just don't know where to dispose of the old oil. Maybe I should just lean into being scummy and throw it in the lake or just let it drain into some Tupperware and throw them into public trash cans. Much to consider. Much to stress over, more like. But for now, I'm back to slugging around old dirty wet couches and beds. I would ask myself why I don't get a desk job doing data entry and sending emails, but I know I'd be just as whiny and complainy there as I am here. At least here I get some exercise and some sun and a decent wage. My town isn't exactly a hub for business, but this is where I live so I take what gets doled out to me. There's a real meth problem in my city. Everywhere you go, you see people pushing shopping carts full of jumper cables, old shoes missing matches, and pounds upon pounds of sweets, eyes bugged out of their heads, screaming at people, twitching and itching all over. I've been having a nagging thought over the past couple of months that, while that seems less than optimal, I'm kinda at my breaking point. Should I just give up on regular society and run with that society? Or should I finally do what I've been thinking about since I was 15 and just kill myself. I know everyone says life gets better as you get older but I found that hard to believe back then, and I still do today. For now, I haul garbage.

2:49 : moved around as much junk as I could. There's still a couple of couches and a huge mattress by one of the bins but they don't fit in my car and the next empty bin to the one they're next to is about a kilometer away. I still have an hour left at work today so I may drag them over. I may not. Who's to say. I may just hang out. That's the beauty of working at the farthest property from the office. Nobody's gonna say anything! Since I last logged my stuff here, I went out to the D*** road property. It's a lazy Monday, I'm done all my make readys for my move ins next month so I'm not stressed, and I just cleaned up some garbage there. There's a lot less to do over there. One box spring, a couple cardboard boxes, and an old bathtub. All tossed in a bin. I caught one of the cleaners out there and we talked. I'm bad with names, so I can't put it here, even in a redacted form. She's nice though. We just talked about how expensive shit is getting, and how much of a dickhead our boss is. He drives a ferrari. He's a landlord. He's kinda a local villain. He sent me and everyone I work with an email to explain that we wouldn't be able to get in touch with him cause he's skiing in the north pole right now because business is so bad because hamas terrorists killed a bunch of innocent colonizers on the other side of the planet. OK man. I've worked here since the beginning of January and I still haven't seen him. And this is his second vacation of the year. Last was at the south pole. Thoughts and prayers dude, I hope you can crank up rent even higher soon 🙏. During my chat with the cleaning lady my bestie sent me some pics. During high school we were super tight, but their parents moved to Nova Scotia on our last day of grade 11 and they've lived there ever since. But just yesterday they touched down in Alberta for a summer job out in the mountains at some kind of resort. Included in some of the pics they sent me was a trailer park at the foot of some mountains. Doesn't that just seem beautiful? I'm not a man of excess, I'm very very easy to please, I think I could do well in a cheap double-wide with a view. I think I could convince Liv to get out there with me. She's in school right now so it would probably take a year or two. But I've talked about moving all over (even to alberta) so many times this is all just another pipe dream. That being said, best of luck to the homie Llewellyn and all of their future alberta endeavors.

4:00 : leaving work. Didn't do any more cleaning. Just sat around.

4:26 : just got home. Liv stayed home to study for her exams. But she cooked me some Ramen and hot dogs that were ready when i got home. Thank you Liv ❤️. She's watching a YouTube video where some Korean guys bite things in a kitchen, and some of the things they bite may be cake. It's a beautiful warm day out so I put down my tools and stripped butt naked, sat down on the couch, and dug into my food. I think I'm going to play some pokemon quarantine crystal on my phone.

4:54 : changed my mind and changed the TV to something we can watch together. Literally since I made that last entry to now I've been looking for a movie to watch. I settled on hereditary. It took me half an hour to find a movie. I think there's something wrong with my brain

5:15 : Liv wanted to paint so I'm here on da toilet thinking of things to paint

6:29 : I painted a face. I always paint faces. This one came out ugly. That's ok cause plenty of people have ugly faces. I feel ugly so I wanted to make something kinda ugly. I had a beer and now I'm laying in bed. I never nap but I feel like I want one right now. I asked Liv to wake me up in 20 but idk if I'll actually fall asleep at all. Guess we'll see.

6:34 : instagram was always fucking dumb but now it feels extra extra dumb.

8:29 : Liv came in to "wake me up" (I didn't sleep) but she climbed into bed and we held eachother and we had sex. We left bed, she continued painting and I played some Persona 4, which I haven't played in a bit. Good news everyone: Yukiko Amagi is safe!! Me and Liv are going out to get Boba now. Liv's painting is really pretty. A long time ago she painted one really similar to what she's painting now, so this one is kinda an update. A psychedelic bust of a headless pink and yellow lady on a royal blue background. She says she's gonna have flowers busting out of a crack in her chest and her head hole. I can't wait to see how it turns out.

10:04 : it's the end of the day. I took my garbage out and passed my downstairs neighbors in the hall. We said hi. Paper recycling today. I've been slacking on that one. I don't care about recycling, it's just that it tears the regular garbage bags so it's easier to put it in a bin. So it's all outside now. I took a quick shower. I didn't wash my hair because I don't like the way it looks after it's been washed, all poofy and round. I blew my nose in my hand and it was still black from the dust in the unit with the warped drywall. A symbol of a hard day's work. Well, maybe not that hard. Either way, I'm in bed right now. Liv is calling her mom. They're tight. When she hangs up, we'll probably watch some simpsons or seinfeld and fall asleep hugging eachother all soft and warm uwu

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bimboamyrose · 4 years

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Unfamiliar (Ch. 11)

Unfamiliar - A Metamy Fanfic

First two chapters

Previous (Ch.10)

Chapter 11: Thoughtful *Check end notes for a bit of extra content!

It had been some years since Amy seriously studied and read the cards. There was a time when she would perform daily tarot pulls first thing each morning, reflecting on a goal for the day and reading a single card for guidance. It was rare that her insights led her astray, but the entire practice had fallen to the wayside in the past two years. Her friends found her uncanny predictions too eerie and refused to indulge her any further. Without anyone to share her talents with, Amy became dispirited with fortune-telling, and her interest faded over time. Now, ever since she’d taken the opportunity to recount her earliest readings with her house guest, Amy began to doubt her ability to interpret the cards at all. After years of convincing herself that patience and perseverance would manifest her romantic intentions to no avail, she decided it was finally time to revisit and reinterpret that faithful hand.

Though she’d never gone, Amy knew of a semi-annual gathering of fortune-tellers and spiritualists that occurred on the equinox. Spring equinox was just around the corner and it was there, Amy hoped, she could find some additional wisdom and guidance. But first, it was time to get reacquainted with her favorite deck.

Amy looked at her nightstand. A sunny tulip rested in a jar over a ceramic coaster. She pulled a deck box from the drawer, clearing a thin film of dust from atop its wooden frame. She set off on the ritual of cleansing and charging that had so long been neglected before finally preparing for her daily pull. A shuffle and an affirmation later, Amy picked the top card from her deck with a nervous breath. The Page of Cups. Creativity, intuition, and the inner child.

A nostalgic smile spread across Amy’s cheeks as memories of her earliest studies and readings danced across her mind. So many years were spent faithfully cultivating her understanding of the practice and training her abilities. It used to be therapeutic- fun, even. She remembered feeling optimistic and prepared for each opportunity. But after so many hardships, predicting the next challenge began to feel tactful, stressful. At what point did she stop looking forward to the day ahead?

Amy decided that it was high time she reconnected with that childish enthusiasm. If nothing else, it would help her understand her reading better. She looked back on all her time spent at the library reading every tome and pamphlet she could find on tarot and resolved to visit her local branch that very day. After a short while getting ready, she emerged from her bedroom much later than intended.

It was close to noon. Amy had skipped breakfast and there was hardly a thing to eat in her fridge. “Guess I neglected the groceries again,” she sighed to herself. Another errand to run for the day. Metal wasn’t in the living room, so she stepped out through the backdoor to find him crouching close to the shore some ways away. He turned to look at her when she called out to him, beckoning her over.

“Good morning.” Amy joined her friend near the seashore, leaning over his shoulder. “Whatcha looking at?” Metal lifted his hand. A hermit crab crawled over his fingers slowly, a smaller shell sitting in Metal’s palm. The smaller one was long and prickly while the crab wore a much smoother and opalescent shell as it crawled around Metal’s hand. “Made a new friend?” Amy giggled. She crouched next to him but the sudden movement scared the critter into hiding. “Oh, oops… sorry.”

Metal handed Amy the crab’s old shell. She examined its ridges and dull spines. “Did it just molt?” Metal nodded as the crab began to stir in his hand again. He turned back to watch it. “It’s so cute,” she sighed. “You’ve been out here a while, huh? It really warmed up to you.” Metal emitted a soft mechanical ring and slowly lowered his hand onto the beach. The crab scuttled around his palm for another moment before hesitantly climbing down onto the sand. He observed as it burrowed down through the sand and disappeared, leaving its tiny footprints in the damp ground.

Amy couldn’t keep her eyes off Metal. A dreamy expression made its way onto her face as she watched his gentle interaction with the little creature, the heartwarming sight inviting a soft flush into her cheeks. So sweet, she thought, once again noticing his careful demeanor. Their feuding seemed so far away now.

The tide nipping at their feet soon brought Amy out of her trance. “Don’t get too wet,” she cautioned as she straightened herself and took some steps back from the chilly water.

It took Metal another moment to get up. He’d spent the last hour crouched there, keeping the vulnerable critter company as it hesitantly came out of its shell, exposing itself to the harsh world for the opportunity to grow in its new home. Metal had pushed the new shell closer to the crab and stood over it like a scarecrow ready to fend off any stray predators. When it was finally settled in its new home, Metal continued to sit still as it scuttled across the sand slowly, like a child breaking in a new pair of shoes. Finally, the crab thanked Metal by climbing onto his outstretched hand and entertaining him for a short while. Then it simply went about continuing its day. Melancholy made its presence aware as Metal thought about how incredibly temporary the interaction was. He lifted himself off the wet sand and stood back near Amy, listening to the gentle waves coming ashore. She tapped him on the shoulder.

“Are you gonna keep it?” She held the spiny shell out in her hand.

He looked at it briefly before placing an uncertain hand on the shell. Amy met his eyes with an encouraging smile. Taking it in his hand, Metal examined the crab’s former home and committed its many ridges to memory before placing it back in the sand.

“Oh, good call. It’ll be useful for the next crab that comes along, huh?” Amy breathed the salty air in deeply, thinking about the day ahead. “I’m heading to the library, then I need to do a little shopping. Wanna come?”

----

The friends made their way into town after a quick stop to get Amy some breakfast. She’d brought a wheeled shopping trolley along to carry her groceries back and suggested they walk. “It’s so nice out,” she’d insisted. But Amy had neglected to mention the very uncomfortable bus ride that came along with that suggestion. All eyes were on them as they rode- or more accurately, on Metal. Perhaps they recognized him, or perhaps the sight alone was just strange enough to incite a reaction. Amy continued jabbering to him, attempting to make a pointy unblinking robot casually riding the bus with his companion seem more normal. Unfortunately, it only served to draw more attention to the pair. They couldn’t arrive at their stop fast enough.

They seemed to attract just as many stares inside the library, though some apparent social norms kept strangers from ogling or whispering too obviously once they were inside. Amy practically dragged Metal by the arm from section to section, mumbling “Sorry,” to him between forced waves and smiles to anyone that recognized her. “They’ll get used to it, don’t worry.”

Amy picked up several volumes as they traversed the building: A sewing guide for a project she’d hit a snag on, a cookbook whose instructions she would likely ignore in favor of preparing meals her own way, and a couple of novels to keep her entertained at bedtime. All the while, people stopped to look at Metal, some whispering to their companions when he walked past. As his irritation grew, so did the constant whirring of his engine. The buzzing became painfully apparent and worried glances in his direction shifted to those of annoyance. A particularly stern-looking librarian shushed him as they walked past her. Metal shot a glare back at the brave woman who returned with a sour look. Amy whispered an apology and dragged him away before the woman could give them a verbal warning.

Amy then spent longer than she’d wanted browsing the occult section. There wasn’t even a large collection- but she felt so out of practice as she skimmed through each of the newer books individually, looking for answers to her questions. She nearly brought half a dozen back with her before realizing they took up a third of the space in her trolley. Settling for the two that seemed the most promising, she placed the last of the books in her basket while ignoring one librarians’ concerned stares. “Anything you want me to check out for you, Metal?” she whispered.

He’d been browsing along with her, though none of the topics she’d looked at were interesting to him. She eventually convinced him to give a pair of her favorite novels a shot before continuing to the checkout counter and transacting with a very distressed clerk. Amy tried making her usual small talk with the man as he was regularly quite chatty, but he clammed up as Metal loomed behind her through the process. The annoyance was becoming harder for Amy to disguise.

Several more bystanders took a double-take at Amy and Metal on their short walk to the market, someone narrowly avoiding crashing their bike into a fence pole while gaping at the pair. Amy’s face held an unusually irritable expression as she completed her shopping in record time with Metal trailing restlessly behind. Most people turned and hid away the moment he made eye contact with them, but he couldn’t help having his guard up in such an unfriendly environment.

As they checked out, the two women that queued behind them stood far away. They clicked their tongues and whispered spitefully. Metal had heard every breath and murmur that had been uttered around him all day, but Amy could just barely pick up pieces of the womens’ conversation. “Dangerous,” and “appalling” made their way to her ears as she paid for the groceries. Metal’s discomfort may have been apparent only to her, but it was no excuse for the harsh words. Livid was an understatement.

She turned to them with a sudden glare, raising her voice. “Do you two have something to say?”

Taken aback, the women turned away somewhat shamefully. They continued to side-eye Metal as Amy finished her transaction with a rather alarmed cashier, putting away the rest of her purchase. Once they assumed Amy was out of earshot, however, they continued their hushed conversation. “It’s an absolute monster,” one of them remarked.

Metal froze momentarily. Countless thoughts ran across his mind. Remembering his frightening appearance in Amy’s mirror some days ago stood out. The unwelcome feeling he’d had during the team meeting came rushing back. He also recalled how it took nothing to lose his cool when Sonic showed up and how crucial it was to keep it from happening again. Then, he noticed the pure rage in Amy’s face as she whipped her head back around, eyes blazing at the women queued behind them.

“How dare you!” Amy took a menacing step toward the women as they gasped and scrambled backward some paces. “How could you possibly be this rude? Apologize!” The ladies turned to the cashier, stammering something about calling security. “Did you hear me? Apologize to my friend right now!”

By that time, a small crowd had formed around the queue. Amy didn’t back down, taking further steps toward the gossiping crones, causing them to scutter back into the throng of customers. “Ma’am,” the cashier began nervously, “I’m- uh- I’m going to have to ask you to leave, please.”

“Are you serious?” she scoffed back at him. “Did you hear what those hags said about my friend? I’m not leaving until- hey!”

Amy was staring at the floor from above before she knew what was happening. Metal had scooped her up by the waist, dragging her trolley behind as he shuffled toward the exit with Amy under his arm. She squirmed and groaned at him to let her go until they were well past the shop’s main entrance. He set her down in a small alley with a huff. At least there they were away from prying eyes.

“Why’d you do that? They should’ve said they were sorry!” Metal stepped in front of Amy to prevent her from making the rash decision to run back in and continue threatening the pair of pearl-clutchers. “Ugh! Get out of my way!” She just managed to slip past him when he grabbed her by the wrist. She wasn’t able to stifle a pained yell as Metal’s iron grip tightened around her- He let go just as suddenly, recoiling with guilt as she held her sore wrist.

In a moment of clarity, Amy gasped at the realization that she’d let her temper get the better of her. Worse, the way Metal remorsefully turned away sent her own guilt skyrocketing. “Metal…” He refused to look at her. “I’m sorry! Please don’t be upset.”

Even at his most careful, even stripped of his weapons, Metal couldn’t help how dangerous his body was - how dangerous he was. For however much he enjoyed Amy’s company and appreciated her support, he couldn’t seem to subvert the expectation that he could cause her harm at any moment. He could cause anyone harm- it’s what he was made for, after all. Those women were right about him; perhaps monster was an apt description. It seemed that every little shred of comfort and normalcy he experienced was fleeting, a temporary feeling punctuated with anger or sadness or guilt. It felt wrong. What was he supposed to do in between those positive moments, anyway? The deep discomfort of the moment made him want to fly far away, rush home- but there wasn’t one to run to.

“Metal, I’m fine! I was just surprised.” She held her wrist up to him as proof. “See? Please don’t feel bad.” He wanted to swat her hand from in front of his nose in annoyance but stopped himself- why was his first instinct so aggressive? Instead, taking a gentle hold of her hand, Metal examined her wrist. It did look fine- but her earlier yell had caught him so off guard.

His soft hold over her hand was also a surprise. Amy stammered bashfully. “I-It’s those old crones! I can’t stand that they said that about you. I just- ugh!” she had to consciously stop herself from getting steamed up again. “I hate when people judge others like that. They’ll never know how wrong they are about you...” she trailed off, somewhat embarrassed and particularly flushed.

Amy’s kind words and willingness to stick up for him stunned Metal. Not knowing how else to respond, he emitted a low, apologetic tone and slipped his hand away from hers.

“Don’t apologize,” she sighed. “You didn’t do anything wrong; Actually, I would’ve done something stupid if you hadn’t stopped me.”

It was gratifying that Amy would defend him so earnestly- not only from cruel bystanders but from her own indiscretion as well. Still, he’d already told himself he wouldn’t rely on her to come to his aid. So then, why was it so endearing? He shrugged and rubbed his arm with some chagrin, unsure how he should feel about… everything.

“It’s annoying, isn’t it? I was in such good spirits this morning. Crazy how fast something can sour your mood.” She pouted pensively, remembering her draw from that morning. The Page of Cups stood as a positive reminder to embrace her intuition- to have fun. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been to town with a friend. Then, an idea popped into her mind and Amy’s face softened, her sweet smile returning. It would be foolish to ignore it.

“Metal, I know we’re carrying a lot of stuff, but do you mind if we make one more stop?”

His shoulders slumped. Dragging the rolling case full of books and groceries around didn’t bother him, but Metal was reluctant to visit yet another place full of people gawking at him. He would need time to get used to it.

“Please? Consider it a favor. It won’t take long.”

Amy’s eyes were suddenly twinkling with enthusiasm. He couldn’t tell if he was being manipulated or if anything that could come from denying her request would genuinely please him more than seeing her that way. It didn’t matter for long, as he gave in, taking hold of the trolley and flashing her a hesitant thumbs-up.

“Yes!” she beamed. “You won’t regret it, come on.” Amy led him by the hand excitedly, cutting through alleys and back streets. If anyone had stopped to ogle at them along the way, Metal didn’t notice- he was too enraptured with the instant delight that seemed to spill from Amy as she pulled him along.

Soon, the pair had arrived at a tall building with an open ground floor. Claw machines and brightly-colored lights filled the inside. “Bet you’ve never been to an arcade,” Amy grinned. “It’s nicer to see at night I guess, but the games are fun whenever. Here,” she skipped over to a row of skill games. “It’s probably cheating, but…” Amy took a quick glance around, scanning for attendants. “Ah, who cares, not like they give out prizes for these here. Try this one!”

Metal had soon been thrust in front of a tall machine that glittered with multicolored lights. A shiny metal handle stuck out from the lower part of it. The top read “TRUE GRIP” in bold font. He looked back at Amy with some confusion.

“It’s a grip tester. The harder you hold the handle, the better your score.” She placed a coin in the machine and it chimed a playful tune. “I know you can beat the high score,” she winked. “Try it!”

So this was her game- Amy wanted to put on a positive spin over grabbing her too roughly earlier. He had to admit, it was clever. Even though he could see through her plan, Metal was heartened by her attempt to cheer him up with such an obvious ruse; The least he could do now was indulge her. He confidently took hold of the handle with his usual grip strength, resting his other hand squarely on his hip. The lights on the machine danced around the “strength-o-meter” as it sang a cheery tune. After a few moments of this, the machine decided that on a scale of “meek” to “super grip,” Metal landed squarely in the middle. “KINDA WIMPY,” the game announced. Amy burst into laughter the moment it stopped.

Metal’s engine buzzed incessantly as he let out a series of indignant beeps. He then glared at Amy, who was doubled over and cackling. “Oh man,” she managed to splurt out between fits of laughter, “that was too good! Got a little cocky, huh?” He was far less amused. Metal stuck out his hand to her, making a grabbing gesture with his claws. “Oh? Another round?” she giggled. “Alright, don’t waste my quarter this time, you wimp.”

He shoved the coin into its slot the second she dropped it in his palm. As soon as the lights flickered, Metal grabbed the handle. It seemed simple enough- he got halfway up with his first round, so using twice as much force should be enough. He took hold of it with several times more power just to be safe, staring directly at the tip of the game’s meter with anticipation. Much to his chagrin, the lights stopped just below the top spot. “KINDA TOUGH,” it sang out this time.

Amy was reeling. Metal turned to her angrily and shoved his hand in front of her face, once more gesturing for another coin. She pushed it away between giggles. “Pfft, no way, you’re gonna break the thing!” Metal stomped his foot on the ground angrily in response. “Don’t worry,” Amy placed a hand on his shoulder with a grin. “These things are rigged. You won’t get the high score even if you rip that handle out,” she chuckled.

Metal crossed his arms in annoyance. Not only was he embarrassed at losing a silly arcade game, but he was surprised to learn that he’d misread Amy somewhat. He assumed she brought him there for an easy win, but she was well aware that it was unlikely to happen. Admittedly, he didn’t feel very guilty anymore, and he supposed it was rather amusing… Was that her intent? Metal turned back to Amy, who was wiping at her eyes happily. She really just wanted to ease the tension and have some fun together- and Amy even knew he’d be a little irritated. She was just being... playful. Like friends are.

A giddy smile filled her face as she came out of her laughing fit. “Sorry, just wanted to tease you a little. I don’t want you to feel so bad about being strong- I’m tough, I can handle it,” she assured.

Metal rolled his eyes, his stance softening significantly. Once he realized how silly the whole situation was, he may have even found it somewhat humorous himself. Still, it would be far more amusing if he could get her back. He gestured toward the machine that stood beside the grip tester, inviting her to try it. It was a similar test of strength, this time with a punching bag.

Amy grinned coyly. “I get it, you wanna see me fail, too. I’ll indulge you,” she shrugged. “But only ‘cause I feel bad that you’re such a wimp.”

As Metal bobbed his head mockingly, Amy rolled a quarter into the coin slot. She stretched her arms casually, giving the game a moment to warm up. Once all of its many lights were on and the screen read “PUNCH,” she pulled back her fist and went for a forceful hook, knocking the punching bag up into the sensor. The lights flickered up and down the meter for just a second until the optics at the very top of the machine exploded with colors. “SUPER STRONG!” the game rang out.

If Metal had a jaw to drop it would be on the floor. So much for the games being rigged- Amy knew exactly what she was doing. He would have been vexed if it wasn’t so impressive. He watched as she shook her fingers off and turned back with her beaming smile. “I’m doing that to the next person who calls you a nasty name,” she giggled.

She was nothing short of incredible. Metal recalled her old file in his memory. Weak. That was certainly no longer the case. He took a snap of her then, looking cheerful and victorious, and logged it as the main photo in his memory. The word weak no longer applied and was promptly crossed out. Before he could alter the file any more, Amy had taken hold of his hand in her tender way, gazing into him with her soft eyes.

“You know, you’re one of the most thoughtful people I’ve ever met. I think it’s really admirable how willing you are to be gentle even when it’s a challenge. Don’t ever believe otherwise.”

Metal was stunned by her kindness yet again. What was it that Amy saw in him that others did not? Surely it wasn’t just naivete, given her willingness to be combative in his defense- no, she was no doormat. And Amy didn’t see Metal as fiendish, at least not anymore. But it still took her some time, however less than it would have taken anyone else. Strangers, on the other hand, are temporary, there wouldn’t always be time to show them his true self. Metal did not know how he could possibly appear less menacing to bystanders, nor did the idea of trying to do so appeal to him. He wanted to understand, to calculate if creating an existence as a regular person, grasping at a fleeting sense of belonging, would even be worth it should he succeed. But it was unpredictable. Incalculable.

Amy had said it herself: “Crazy how fast something can sour your mood.” But it worked conversely as well- on any day, at any given moment, Metal could be more elated than he ever remembered feeling. And there was something so sweet about feeling that way after having his mood soured. It was endlessly more rewarding. So what, then, was the point of lamenting over the impermanence of those moments? There would always be rude strangers, always challenges ahead. No one would ever know him fully. All the more reason, then, for Metal to get to know himself as intimately as possible. Thoughtful was a good place to start.

...................................................................................

(notes contain chapter spoilers)

hello babesss i hope you enjoyed this chapter.

i like to think that amy has some latent magical powers and her being able to beat the ever loving shit out of a rigged arcade game is just part of her magic. also, she’s stronk.

also! i’ve been working on a small playlist with songs that remind me of each chapter, but i’ve drawn a blank for a few. if anyone has any songs they associate with the fic (or with metal/amy in general), please dm me your suggestions! i love hearing your thoughts and i’m a geezer that is too stubborn to listen to new music unless someone shoves it in front of me.

here’s the playlist so far!

#metamy #metal sonic #amy rose #metal sonic x amy rose #sth fanfiction #unfamiliar #ch 11 #the playlist is unlisted by the way so hang onto the link or check back if you want to hear it again!

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ninzied · 4 years

Text

into the peace of wild things

a supernatural au for @carry-the-sky. ever since you gave me a ‘kastle + the woods’ prompt i’ve been daydreaming about writing this fic. here’s how it all begins.

…

nyctophilia (n); love for darkness or night, finding relaxation and comfort in the darkness

mangata (n); the reflection of moon on water

…

Full moon tonight.

Frank’s felt it calling to him all day. A low thrum in his bones, his blood singing with the need to just – run. To get out of this life. To get out of his skin.

He feels the subtle shift in his breathing, shallowing out and growing more rapid as the sun makes its lazy descent in the sky. His heart rate kicks up a notch, and he feels simultaneously like his chest is too small and his body too large and too slow to contain it.

His muscles are tensing all over, like a spring just shy of some violent release the moment the smallest thing sets him off. He keeps to himself even more than usual, swinging his sledgehammer and hoping that the kid who usually tries to offer him a ride home doesn’t bother tonight.

It’s cold out. They’re at a demolition site, working their way through the interior walls, and the air this high up blows through in large gusts, unimpeded and unforgiving in its teeth-rattling chill.

Frank’s starting to sweat.

He shrugs off his jacket, swiping at the beads of moisture collecting at each temple. He can practically feel the minutes ticking their way into sunset now. He’s not even trying; it’s hard-wired into him, the countdown.

Fuck it, he can’t wait any longer.

He sets his tools down, leaving his jacket and the few other things he’d brought to his shift. Empty water bottle, a battered-up copy of Moby Dick that he knows the other guys wouldn’t touch with a ten foot pole. He’d tried reading a little during his lunch break, before his thoughts had gone all quiet and restless. It’ll still be there in the morning, after. He’s not going to need any of these things where he’s going.

“Dude, need a ride?”

Frank grunts his response without turning around. “Not today, kid.”

“You always say that,” says Donny with a laugh. “How do you get home, Castiglione? Don’t you live in the middle of nowhere?”

“Thought I’d go for a run,” says Frank.

Donny sounds dubious. “A run? Like, out there?” He gestures toward the large hole that comprises one outer wall of the building. They’re surrounded by trees on that side, glowing slightly around their brown, barren edges where the sun has touched down to give them a bit of color.

“There a problem?” asks Frank.

“Well, it’s just that—” and Donny’s voice lowers to conspiratorial levels. “There’s some shit that’s gone down in those woods. My grandmother said so. Well – not the shit part, she didn’t say that, but – hey, where are you going?”

“The woods,” says Frank.

No point in lying. On the other side of the building, there’s nothing but a single dirt road that leads back into town – when Donny doesn’t see him there on his drive home, he’ll know anyway. Besides, the kid’s got at least some sense of self-preservation; he’s not going to go traipsing into the woods after him.

“Just be careful, okay?”

“Sure,” Frank tells him, and starts to head out. He doesn’t have the patience to wait for the elevator – it stalls half the time anyway, which is always unpleasant – so he cuts across for the stairs, nodding a cursory goodbye to some of the other guys as he passes.

“Hey, wait,” he hears Donny yelling, “you forgot your—”

“Be back for it tomorrow,” Frank calls behind him.

As soon as he’s at the top step, he breaks into a light jog. It’s fifteen flights down, but his body’s been more than ready for the release. When he’s down to the last five flights, he glances around to ensure he’s alone before leaping them one by one, landing quietly on his feet each time.

He forces himself to resume a normal pace as soon as he’s outside. There are too many eyes in the building still – not that they’re looking, and it’s finally near-twilight – but Frank’s been too careful, after losing so much, to get found out by anyone now.

…

The moment he steps through the treeline, he feels like he can breathe again.

The woods close around him like the arms of an old friend, blocking out the sight of the building. The branches are still bare, recovering from the worst of the winter, but every so often, as Frank walks deeper into the trees, he spots a few budding green things here and there, and the trill of a lone bird tells him the rest of spring might not be so far off.

He walks for another hour, waiting for the sky to go as dark as it’s going to get for the night. It’s easier, now, to move slower, without any particular intent but to roam. His heart’s still beating twice as fast as usual, but he’s no longer caged in; there’s only space and more space out here, and soon enough nothing else is going to matter.

He eventually reaches the clearing and stops.

He toes off his boots and tugs his shirt over his head before heading toward the edge of the pond. The moon sits full and bright in the water, and a shiver of anticipation works its way up his spine as he stretches.

It always hurts, the transition, like each time is the very first; but it’s a pain that he’s not only learned to live with, but welcome.

He lets his gaze drift up to the small wooden bridge, just on the other side of the moon.

His chest clenches tight for a moment.

For a moment, he hears Lisa’s laughter as he swoops her up over the low rail, letting her feet dangle freely above the water. I’m going to let go, he says, blowing raspberry kisses into her belly as she laughs, and laughs. You ready? On the count of one…two…

No you’re not, Daddy, she tells him, like he’s just said the funniest thing in the world. No you’re not.

Frank blinks hard and turns away.

It’s time.

He takes a step back toward the trees, feeling the tingle of moonlight on his bare skin. He rolls his shoulders back, turning his neck from side to side, grunting with each telltale crack of bone.

He’s reaching to shuck off the rest of his clothes when he hears it.

Frank whips around, senses keening. He crouches down low and spider-crawls the rest of the way back into the relative dark of the forest. Peering out into the clearing again, he sees the bridge undisturbed, the full moon motionless in the water.

And then he goes still, and he waits.

He’s not sure what it was that he’d heard the first time – for all he knows, it could have just been some other critter, trying to live its life in the dark same way he is.

But when he gives the air a sniff, it doesn’t smell like any animal he’s known before.

The seconds stretch into long periods of silence. His knees are starting to ache a little from squatting, and this new spike of adrenaline in his blood has nowhere to go but in circles the longer he stays here unmoving.

He straightens himself, inch by inch.

And then he hears it again.

There’s a scrabbling noise, like something scratching into bark – a small but solid thudding sound, followed by a stifled cry of pain.

Frank takes off in a sprint without a second thought. Whatever else he might have heard, there was no question in his mind that that last sound had been unmistakably human.

He smells the blood first.

At least – he thinks it’s blood.

His first instinct tells him it’s something floral – roses, he thinks – which makes little sense. Roses don’t grow in these woods. But underneath its dewy sweetness, there’s a tang of something else in the air too, like the roses are made of metal.

He slows his steps, listening hard.

There’s another low, muffled whimper – it’s softer, now, but close enough for him to make out the shallowing breaths in between, the slowing of its movements against one of the trees up ahead.

The wind shifts, sweeping its chill past his bare shoulder. Whatever is there with him suddenly stills. Even its breathing seems to just – stop – for a moment as the breeze reaches it, and Frank tenses, realizing that it must have smelled him too.

What are you?

He stands there a moment longer, waiting for the air to resettle. His hands come down to his sides, and he holds himself still, ready to do whatever is going to be necessary. But this – other creature is badly injured, and even if it’s here to compromise him in some way, it would be poor form if he attacked first.

“Whoever you are,” says a woman’s voice, faint but firm in the darkness, “Just make it quick. I don’t have all night.”

Frank steps forward, into the moonlight.

She’s well-hidden, nothing more than a voice between shadows on the other side of the pale swath of grass that he finds himself standing in. It wasn’t for lack of his sharpened senses that he hadn’t been able to make out the rest of her until now.

She has the figure of a woman, but she’s no more just a woman than he is just a man.

As he approaches, she shifts back a little, but there’s a defiant square to her shoulders that tells him it’s not in her nature to go down without a fight.

Even though the fight’s already come to her.

Her skin is so white that she looks almost ghost-like. But there’s a spark in her eyes that’s the color of sky and steel, and it holds him back at a distance, just enough to take measure of her wounds as she takes measure of him.

She’s in a sleeveless dress of some light blue gauze, but she doesn’t appear to be shivering. Frank catalogues this information for later, his gaze drawn instead to the clustered red welts running jagged down the length of each arm. The fabric of her dress is shredded in places too, a deep bloom of red spreading slowly up one side of the hem where it’s plastered against her thigh.

He kneels down next to her, and she lashes back against the tree, hissing through her teeth.

“Hey. Hey, hey, hey, shhhh. It’s okay. Hey. I’m not going to hurt you.” He raises his hands in a gesture of goodwill, gaze steady on hers. He might have imagined it – it could have been the dark playing its usual tricks on the light – but for a split second, her blue eyes glow just as bright as the moon.

He knows he’s not imagining the two pearly white fangs peeking out when her lips part in a silent warning.

That answers one of things he’s been wondering about her.

“Just – let me take a look at it, yeah?”

She stares at him, like she doesn’t quite know what to do with the fact that he’s still trying to help.

“Fine,” she grits out at last.

Slowly, carefully, he peels back the hem of her dress. There, in the upper part of her thigh, are two crescent-shaped puncture wounds, going deep into the muscle. The bite is fresh, but the skin around it is already curling, blackening with the first signs of decay.

Frank’s vision tunnels dark for a moment. He feels his pulse up to his ears, drowning out all other sound.

He can sense her eyes on him as he works, tearing off a strip of her dress and wrapping it tight around her thigh. It might be enough to stop the bleeding, for now, but the bleeding itself is not what’s concerning to him.

“You’re one of them,” she says. It’s a question, and it’s not.

“It’s just me,” he tells her. “I’m alone.”

It’s a struggle, to keep himself steady. Her words have confirmed what he already knew.

He would recognize a wolf bite anywhere.

“Who did this to you?” he asks her, his voice low and terrible.

Her nostrils flare once. She raises her head, as if in challenge, and tells him, “He won’t be a problem anymore.”

“Good,” says Frank, and means it.

They can’t stay here, he thinks. He has to get her out. No other wolf he’s known has ever traveled alone. Whoever it was that bit her – the rest of them might not be far behind.

He reaches for her, and she bares her teeth at him again, though he thinks it’s more out of surprise than anything else.

“If this bite isn’t the thing that kills you,” he says, “something else will, I can promise you that.”

“You mean if you don’t get around to it first?” But her fangs have receded, and she’s looking at him with more curiosity than caution for now. “Why should I trust you?”

“Afraid I don’t have a good answer to that,” says Frank matter-of-factly. “But something tells me you’re not really looking that hard for one.”

For the first time, he thinks he sees a flicker of fear cross over her features.

“But you know what I am,” she says finally. There’s another question just under the surface, like she’s still trying to understand something about him.

“Maybe I do,” he tells her. “Never actually met one of your kind before.” He looks her directly in the eye. “Doesn’t mean I know who you are, any more’n you think you know me. But I am gonna do what I can to keep you safe, you got that?”

“Sounds like I don’t have much of a choice.”

He almost smiles at that. “Guess you don’t. C’mon.”

He lifts her up, one arm under her knees, the other braced around her shoulders. Her skin is blessedly cool pressed to his – he runs even hotter than normal, around this time of the month, and he still hasn’t had a chance to transition and let off some of that steam.

Later, he thinks. He hoists her closer, careful not to jostle her leg.

The scent of the roses grows stronger, and he becomes vaguely aware of the fact that her mouth is inches away from his pulse.

“So what do I call you?” Her breath feels like the mist off an icebox, but there’s a distant quality to it, and when he glances down her lids are fluttering closed.

“Frank,” he says. He’ll have to keep talking, to keep her awake. “Your turn.”

“Karen,” she tells him. “My name is Karen.”

“Okay, Karen.” He takes off in a jog, ignoring the burn of the uneven ground against his bare feet. “Karen, you’re safe with me, okay?” And he hopes to Christ that he’s not wrong.

#kastle #kastle ff #kastlenetwork #wild things au #tw: blood #really really interested in making this a multi-chap #so let me know what you guys think!

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forfuchssake · 4 years

Text

Batbear to the Rescue || Bri & Morgan

TIMING: Present PARTIES: @mor-beck-more-problems & @honeybugbearbri SUMMARY: A hunter tries to capture and kill Morgan and Bri comes to the rescue.

Bri found it funny the way hunters worked. Always so concentrated on their prey that they forgot how quickly they themselves could become the prey. She’d been watching Jack for a few days now, ever since she saw him stake a vampire outside Nightshade. That simply wouldn’t do. It was easy enough to keep somewhat on his trail, get a feel of his routine, and slightly play with his reality. Men like that, they never dreamed that they could be on the other side of it all. They thought they were the biggest predators out there and their own ego would be their downfall. He was in her forest now, her domain, stalking after some girl who seemed to be hunting a rabbit. Brianne knew she must have been some sort of undead, but that mattered little. The priority was turning this hunter into her own trophy. She lurked quietly behind the trees, waiting for him to spring into action.

Morgan was reluctant to call Remmy the moment she felt herself coming a little too unglued. They had only just started talking again, and this wasn’t a disaster of a day. This was just a time when the nothing of the world around her grated, when she felt the pull of the death-pit inside her a little harder than she had the last few days. And dammit, she didn’t want to go straight back into bed, or worse, the floor. Remmy said to keep trying. So, while Deirdre was out, Morgan returned to the woods. She was hoping to practice the lessons Ulfric had given her, but the smell of death was distracting her. It was just the right kind, she could tell by spotting it in the distance. Not too fresh, not too rotted. Morgan turned her attention away from her live prey and towards another. She didn’t even have to be quiet. Morgan leapt--and felt a stiff wire around her neck, yanking her onto her back. Morgan scrambled, kicking her feet uselessly at the grass. She didn’t even think about calling for help. Who would hear her? Who even knew where she was? Morgan tugged at the wire, her fingers slipping on the smooth cording, scrambling for purchase. She pawed back, searching for the rest of the lasso. The person on the other end tugged, dragging her across the ground. Morgan tilted her head back, eyes pinballing through the woods in panic. She couldn’t see anything. Just a shadow. A no one shadow.

“Don’t fight,” they said. “You’re only gonna make this harder on yourself.”

Morgan squeaked, grunted mutely. The cord was digging too deep into her neck for her to speak.

Any suspicions she had that Jack had been on the hunt were confirmed when Bri saw him attack. As he sprung to capture the woman with some sort of cord, her body shifted and Bri felt herself become larger than life. With a roar, she leapt for the distracted hunter, claws tearing into his sides. The pitiful little yelp that came out of his mouth was music to her ears. The bear looked him straight in the eye, loving how palpable the fear radiating off of him was. His grip on the wire he was using to trap the undead woman loosened and fell from his hands. A quick paw swiped it away from him, leaving gashes in his hand, as he tried to reach for it again. With a booming roar, Bri lowered her now bear shaped head right into his face. The fear coming off of him was delicious. The righteous poetic justice of watching the wretched man realize he had become her prey. If bears could smile, her grin would be wide as she could smell the stink of urine on him. Jack really was quite easily frightened. Seemed surprising giving his occupation, but when faced with the reality of death, they were all the same. As he whimpered, she slashed her claws into his throat and watched the blood pool into the grass beneath him. Confident he was dead, the bear backed away from the hunter’s body. Jack was effectively dead and she contemplated finishing off a bottle of Jack Daniels. She could place his teeth and smaller bones inside once she finished. It’d make a great centerpiece. A true bottle of Jack. Sensing the girl’s eyes on her, she focused on shifting back to her now nude human form. She quizzically looked the other woman over. “Are you hurt?”

Morgan felt the cord loosen first. Whimpering like a frightened animal, she tugged and clawed at it wildly until she could get it over her head and as far away from her as she could throw it. It was a fucking metal lasso, like the kind they used in zoos for the big cats. Morgan touched her throat, grimacing with a horror she hadn’t felt before. Her stomach tightened. Fuck, was she going to be sick? She backed away. She couldn’t remember where the dead rabbit was, which way she’d come from, where she’d put her phone in her pocket. She fumbled to pat herself as she backed away, but her hands were shaking too much to dig through anything. When she heard a strange voice, she cried out, backing further away. This was--not the scary murderer in the woods. Mostly because the scary murderer, and his stakes and sword were on the ground. So-- “Who are you?” Wait. She’d asked her a question first. Right? “U-uh…” It was a little hard to speak. “I’m fine. I’m...not hurt. I can’t...really get hurt anymore. Mostly.” But it was hard drawing enough air in to speak. Her throat ached. “Where did you come from?”

Bri looked at her with narrow, quizzical eyes. It was clear she was in pain, but she supposed it would heal quickly considering what she was. Her questions were valid, it wasn’t every day a bear came out of the woodwork and killed an undead hunter before your eyes. Catching wind of these guys was rare for her. Most of her collection had been werewolf hunters, but she always believed variety to be a virtue. Plus, now the woman before her could go about her way and hopefully stir fear in those around her. As she answered, Bri crossed her arms over her bare chest and answered, “I’m Bri. I live closeby. I do these woods a service and keep them as hunter free as I’m able.” Looking her over, it was clear she was going to be okay. The undead had a way of healing quickly. “I’m glad you’re okay. A hunter victory is a loss for all of us.” With a slightly sinister grin, she said, “Why? Did I startle you?” With a gesture over to a cluster of trees, she answered, “From over there. I’ve been trying to keep tabs on this one since I saw him stake a vampire outside of Nightshade. He wasn’t quite so brave in the face of fear itself it seems.”

Bri was taking all of this very weirdly in stride for Morgan. Just standing naked in the woods and talking about the woods and asking questions like why and what’s up. Just another day in the life of...whatever she was. Morgan didn’t know where to put her eyes. Looking at the person talking to you good, gawking at naked women, bad. No winning here, and Morgan’s brain was still frazzled from how suddenly the world had literally fallen out from under her, how quickly she could’ve been chopped or caged away from the life she was just barely getting a grip on. Morgan risked a look down at the body. Not much of a looker anymore, but he didn’t seem familiar. “I don’t think I even know that guy,” she said faintly. “How does that even work? When did he meet me?” What did hunters like him do? Prowl the woods for zombies looking for dead critters? Because that was super threatening. “H-hunter victory,” she repeated. “That’s...that’s a thing. The thing that almost but didn’t happen. Right. Um...no, not startled, exactly, I think that started somewhere around the wire noose in the middle of what I really thought were deserted woods.” She swallowed, touching her throat again. Then risked an awkward ‘promise I’m not a creepy lesbian staring at you naked’ look in her general direction. “Thank you. For saving me. That was...I mean, you don’t even know me. And, um, sorry, my brain is lagging with the sudden near second-death--I’m assuming you know, somehow, I’m already kind of dead, and if not, weeeell--um, but: what is Nightshade? And can I--get you anything. Do anything or...whatever, for the random rescue favor? Do you do this a lot or something?”

Nudity was no stranger to Brianne. It was never something she really thought much of until seeing more of the human world. For bugbears and she had to imagine for other shifters, being naked was not something that was inherently sexual. It was just a natural state, the most natural if you were constantly shifting between bear and human forms. Her short stints of socializing did help her learn most others were uncomfortable with nakedness, whether it be their own or the nakedness of others. “You can look at me,” she remarked, “I was just a bear, societal norms mean little to me.” Bri supposed if she was still uncomfortable, that was her own deal. As expected, she had a lot of questions. “It’s hard to tell if he had been previously tracking you or not. I had been tracking him which was quite easy. He was overconfident.” She looked down to Jack, he looked like a work of art the way he was mangled on the grass. If she could paint, she’d paint Jack as he was right now. Her shoulders shrugged as she looked back to the undead woman, “I gathered as much. I presume undead seeing as dear Jack here was after you.” She listened momentarily as the other woman seemed to gather her bearings and asked more questions. It was understandable, some lesser man had just tried to turn her into prey with a cowardly metal lasso. With narrow eyes studying her, she answered, “Nightshade is the farmer’s market in town. It’s a nighttime market that’s open on Friday’s. I’m a beekeeper, I have a stand there called Honey Bri. You don’t owe me anything, I take joy in bringing hunters to justice. I’m Bri, a bugbear if you were curious about the whole bear thing.”

“Just a what?” Morgan was so surprised she looked Bri square in the face, trying to understand. “Did you say bear? Like...uh...a real bear? A bear who’s sometimes a person or a person who’s sometimes a bear?” She went on, something about tracking the hunter, or the hunter tracking her, she couldn’t keep track of which was which. When had she been tracked? Had someone really reported ‘woman playing dead in the cemetery’ to the police? Were there creepy pictures of her yoinking her arm out of its socket with Jane? Morgan started to tally up her outings in her head, trying to figure out how few pieces someone might need to put together who she was, what she was. “Honey Bri,” she mumbled, coming out of her thoughts. “I’ve never been to...there. The uh, Nightshade Market. I thought there was just...the normal farmer’s market.” She stared at the woman again. She had definitely, definitely said something about bringing hunters to justice. And not through giving them a good talking-to, but murder in the woods kind of justice. Morgan’s insides were still clenched with fear, but she couldn’t help being relieved. She would have wanted this to happen to him. It was what he deserved, dragging her across the forest floor like a mangy animal. But Bri had done it with so much calm. She wasn’t even breaking a sweat. And yet the thing Morgan could summon the words for was, “I’m sorry, I don’t know what bugbear means.”

“A bear,” Bri deadpanned. At the visible still very present confusion, she cackled slightly, She supposed her kind wasn’t as well known as most among the supernatural community. “Both, I suppose. Some bugbears live their lives mostly in bear form, others live mostly in human form. Depends on who you ask. I live mostly as a human. Still am very comfortable with nudity considering I transition between forms often.” She quietly allowed time for the woman to process what had just happened. Near death experiences seemed to throw most for a loop. Learning of a new species was probably also a bit on the strange side, especially if she was new to life as a zombie. Bri’s head was tilted as she watched her process everything. “Nightshade is a night time market that’s open on Friday’s. You can find ordinary stuff there as well as some out of the ordinary things. If you think of it, you can probably find it there. My stand is straightforward though- it’s honey and beeswax candles. I just like bees so I keep them.” She shook her head lightly, the woman was still disoriented and likely still hungry. “Yes, a bugbear. That’s what I am. I eat fear, spook people, and turn into a bear sometimes. The stopping hunters from killing people like you is more of a personal hobby.”

Processing was coming a little easier. Morgan caught the part where Bri’s ratio of animal-to-human was more fifty-fifty than, say, Ricky’s. She understood about the appetite, and how that might open some doors to aggressive tendencies, friendly as she seemed now. “Oh, like a Mara. Only...not. Okay. That’s neat.” She caught the part where Nightshade was a supernatural farmer’s market, and Bri smelled beeswax candles, and had enough brain cells working together to suppose it might be a good thing that she was only finding out about this after she’d lost the magic to compete with her. Bri didn’t seem the type to take kindly to a monkey’s paw. The part where Bri was some sort of superhero vigilante gave her more pause. She wasn’t sure why someone fighting back or helping strangers was the hardest thing to believe since she’d moved here, but it boggled her mind enough to fill her with a distressed wonder. “That’s...I mean, that’s kind of amazing, but...well, don’t you...don’t they ever try to hurt you back? Don’t you ever get scared about what they’ll do? I mean, not that I’m not grateful that I’m not—” she gestured vaguely to the hunter’s body. “Like that. Or in the back of some truck or being cut up for bone goo—” her voice trembled as the wide variety of potential awful started to sink in. “I just mean. That could be you too. That’s a lot to do for someone you don’t know.”

It seemed the initial shock of being hunted was starting to wear off. Bri nodded slowly at the mention of mara. She was familiar with them, primarily because of the shifts she’d pick up every so often at Misery Manor, but she found some of them to be a bit uppity. She paid little attention to their superiority complex. “Not quite. Similar in feeding on fear, but still different. Most mara and bugbears wouldn’t like to be compared. I don’t care much, but there is a little bit of rivalry there.” Bri found her question to be funny. Fear wasn’t something she experienced herself, but she craved other’s fears. Hunting hunters was dangerous from time to time, but it was rewarding work. There was a certain satisfaction that came with snuffing out someone who would choose to eliminate the supernatural altogether if they had the choice. As if they didn’t have the right to exist in their true nature. Whether it was safe was of little concern. Her body shifted as she shrugged and the light crack of twigs beneath her bare feet could be heard. “Nothing scares me. I’ve gotten hurt a few times, but I do not fear pain or death. They’re part of life. Most of the time, they don’t suspect someone is tracking them on their hunts and they don’t typically look for my kind.” While Bri felt righteous in her ways, she wasn’t quite sure how to accept the thanks. It didn’t feel like much. Jack had been easy enough to take down as a bear with the element of surprise. Her head shook slightly, “Don’t worry about it. I’d rather see you alive than Jack here.” She bent down to examine his body. The only part she really cared to save for herself was his teeth. She turned back to Morgan, “Would you care for his brain? I have little use for it.”

“Well...jinkies, Bri,” Morgan said, somewhat at a loss. “I guess that makes you the hero Gotham needs. And a heck of a lot better to look at than Batman.” A little wry humor always helped her keep her balanced on the edge when she thought she might fall over. And, well, this was as on the edge as she’d been since she’d died. Morgan dusted herself off again and backed away from the body. She’d had enough of a taste of what the hunter was capable of by feeling its wire rope around her. She didn’t want to know what his taste in music was, what sports he liked, how much of a person he’d been, and still hurt her like she was nothing. “I’m good,” she said. “I don’t...do that, not a lot, anyway. But I don’t think I’d want to feel someone like that inside of me anyways. Chop it up for the scavengers to eat, if you want it to go to use.” She swallowed thickly, searching for her footpath out and heading that way. “Even if you say I don’t owe you, I’ll find you, maybe? At the market, or...around. You’re a good person, you know. I hope there’s someone who looks out for you too.”

Bri blinked slowly. She had never really thought of herself as Batman. The only reason she’d even seen any of the films was because the Joker had a certain level of appeal though Harley Quinn was the far greater figure in the movie. She’d rather be Harley Quinn than Batman, but she supposed she could understand the comparison. “Thank you… I guess I am a bit of a vigilante of sorts. I would hope so, but then I don’t find men to be very… appealing to look at it.” She could hardly blame Morgan for not lowering herself to eat hunter brains. There had to be some sort of contagion for their staunch superiority complexes. Still, she felt the need to offer since the woman hadn’t gotten a proper meal. Then she was on about making it up to her. That wasn’t why she did this, but she wouldn’t mind seeing Morgan again. “You really don’t owe me, but I’d love to have you by the stand sometime. I can introduce you to my friend, Glen. His stand has some… things that may suit your appetite. Be safe out there, friend.”

#morgan #batbear to the rescue #wickedswriting

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latitudesunknown · 4 years

Text

Tiny Haven Gazette #3

In which I drop the gazette format because it takes an ungodly amount of time and nobody cares. 🎉

My house gets a first floor, and coincidentally, my storage doubles, which is a relief. That should free me from spending 30mn every day desperately trying to figure out what to part with for at least a month.

So much space!

And now that it’s been upgraded, I get more customization options and can change the outside of my house!

¨🦄¨

By sheer dumb luck, I finally figure out how to get money trees!!!! I can’t believe it took me so long (although I’m very happy I never looked the answer up online). I should have known there was something up with the glowing golden hole that appeared whenever you dug up some money, that thing was clearly magic!

My pockets were full, so I had no choice but to bury back the money bag I’d just dug out, and this happened. Honestly considering how often I walk around with full pockets I’m astounded this didn’t happen sooner.

So now I have a little money tree orchard. Next experience: does the money tree give you MORE money if you plant a bigger money bag? Tried it this morning, will get an answer in a few days.

¨🦄¨

Raiiiiinbow!

That’s it. There’s no story to go with it, but it’s the first rainbow I’ve seen in the game!

¨🦄¨

I can’t stop thinking about that sweet little cow I saw on @astorytotellyourfriends ‘s island last week, so I decide to build the last house in the hopes of finding her on an island and inviting her over.

In the process, I realize I could have built myself a beach house all along.

Damnit!

To my horror, however, the very next morning, the house has been sold to a stranger!

Thankfully, my new neighbour, while not being Norma, is just as sweet.

I covet her living room SO BADLY. And also I kinda wanna eat her. Why would you design a rhinoceros to look like a cake?! She must get nightmares where people run after her, trying to bite off her strawberry horn.

¨🦄¨

Shortly after, and as a result of me ignoring him completely for a few days, Phebus FINALLY decides to leave the island.

I actually took a chance when I decided to talk to him, considering that’s the way he always looks.

“Good luck with the neighbours, their stories and their problems... you’re going to need a good dose of patience!”

That shouldn’t be a problem because, unlike you, I actually like people!

And because I like people, of course, joke’s on me, because I feel super sad to see him leave. 🙄

¨🦄¨

Following his departure, I start buying mystery island tickets like a crazy person, hoping to bump into Norma, but so far, no luck.

Why did I meet so many chickens?!

It’s the second day Phebus’s old house is on sale and I’m sure it’ll get sold to a random NPC any second now. The stress is intense!

¨🦄¨

I don’t know what’s up with them but everyone on the island keeps asking me if they should change their catchphrases! After the tenth time, I finally give in with Lili, assuming she’ll just come up with a new one on her own, but then am faced with a horrible screen that is asking ME to come up with something on the spot!

Have I mentioned how much I love it when she makes that face?

It took me ten minutes and some internet research to come up with this. This is too big of a responsibility!!

At least she was happy about it.

I’ve gone back to refusing to help the others, though. At least not until I can come up with proper catchphrases for them!

¨🦄¨

For the very first time, I get asked to play postman for my villagers. See, Nacer’s been bonding with Kali (no wonder, since they’re both jocks), but he was too shy to give him a present himself.

“Kali has helped me so much, I picked up a present for him. But I’m too shy to give it to him myself...”

Feeling like cupid, I hurry to Kali’s house. 👼🏹💘

“A frog costume! Oh la la!”

I have to admit that wasn’t the kind of gift I’d been expecting considering how much they both love sports, but ok!

“Did Kali say something about the gift?”

That was super cute, I hope I’ll get more requests like it!

¨🦄¨

In the span of one week I must have learnt about 20 new mimics, which, honestly, I find baffling. Most of them are just sliiiiight variations, it’s ridiculous. In the game I used to work on we ended up with about 50 expressions per character, but that was because they needed to express a wide range of emotions in very subtle ways. You don’t need that for cute island critters, especially when emoting is such a slow process in the first place!

¨🦄¨

Justine visits again one night, which gets everyone on the island talking.

“Since we have a visitor, I’ve baked some cakes. I hope she’ll like them...”

“I absolutely MUST tell her ‘hi’ before she leaves!”

“No, don’t mind me, you’ve got a visitor! Focus on being a good hostess!”

I like their reactions so much I spend more time speaking with my islanders than my visitors whenever I have one, haha.

Also, I love the smoke trails in the sky whenever a plane leaves. That small connection to a bigger world is very comforting.

¨🦄¨

Abraham, true to himself, is adorable.

“Good evening, sweets! Grum grom grom... My tummy also says good evening!”

🥰

Later we play to a little game with freakishly accurate results.

“Let’s play! Tell me your favourite color, and I will tell you what food you are.”

“You chose orange, which means you’re easy to live with, but you can also sometimes feel lonely.”

In the end, he said I was an onion. Layers, y’see.

¨🦄¨

I also finally figure out how to eavesdrop on people’s conversations, and get treated to many a story.

Lili : I just read my horoscope... You’re not gonna believe it! It’s sick!

Phebus : What am I supposed to not believe, exactly? The horoscope, or the fact that you managed to read it through? You know what, just tell me what it said, let’s get this over with.

Lili : Listen to this... “Your travels will bring good surprises.” Isn’t that sick?! Especially for me, because I love good surprises!

Phebus : Um... I guess? I mean, I don’t know. How did that make you sick? I’m confused.

Lili : Nah, just wait! After that, I went shopping, and it was the spring sales! Get that, I got a sweet little dress on sale! I was so happy I thought I was going to pass out!

Phebus : What?! Don’t kid with that! D’you need me to call for help?

Lili (totally ignoring him) : So anyway I put on my new dress and went for a walk. And that’s when it started raining big time, and I got drenched... Why didn’t my horoscope warn me about that?!

Phebus : I don’t know... have you tried reading the weather column instead?

¨🦄¨

I catch Vanessa and Maëlle talking about a movie they both watched... except they both remember it very differently...

Maëlle : Oh, Vanessa, thanks for lending me that movie, I loved it! The costumes were gorgeous... I want the leading lady’s straw hat!

Vanessa : And that chase in hydro planes! Pfiiiiiiiouuu, ppfffz, ka-BOUM! That was awesome sauce!

Maëlle : And that dress with golden trimmings that she wears at the picnic... that was fine art!

Vanessa : And what about the fight against the giant robot? When he punches a hole in the planet? Whazaam!

Maëlle : Yes! He really stole the scene with his diamond plates... It must have cost a fortune! ... ... Wait, did you say he punched a hole in a planet? Was that before or after the ball?

😂

¨🦄¨

Later, I find the same two talking about Maëlle’s insect infestation problem (probably caused by all the sweets she keeps in her house, just saying). When she asks me what I would do, I tell her I’d just move out, which gets me a VERY judgmental look from Vanessa.

“How do you manage to get rid of them?”

Vanessa’s solution, in the end, is for Maëlle to sell her house to “an insect-loving weirdo”. I wish I knew if that was a dig at Abraham or if it’s just a coincidence.

“Bah, that can’t be impossible. You just need a real weirdo who thinks insects aren’t so bad!”

¨🦄¨

Lili and Raymond get into a big argument about Lili’s cooking skills...

Raymond : By the way, Lili, I haven’t thanked you for lunch the other day! It was very good!

Lili : “Very good”? Seriously, don’t you have something even more corny? Nobody says that anymore! Don’t you mean it was delicious? Or maybe extremely refined? Or maybe super exquisite?

Raymond : Oh! You’re right, I’m sorry. Um, it was... delectable... succulent... A concentrate of sheer deliciousness!

Lili : And?

Raymond : And... every bite sent my taste buds into a transcendental ecstasy?

Lili : Oh! Is that a question or a statement, Raymond?

Raymond : A statement, of course! Pff... All that to describe a stupid sole meunière...

Lili : Don’t tell me you’ve just called my sole meunière, my mother’s own recipe!, “stupid”?!

I’m still amazed that they parted in good terms, I thought for sure Lili would keep on fuming

¨🦄¨

After trying to get my first residents to spruce up their apartments, with mitigating results...

I mean, the ball, jars and punching sack are all gifts of mine, so that’s cool he’s got them all out at the same time, but that’s still a sad little barren house.

I finally look it up online and discover their houses are actually not supposed to be like this at all! Turns out poor Nacer, Vanessa, Abraham, Renée and Lili are all stuck with generic houses because they got to my island too soon!

This is what Renée’s house should look like!

So I’ve decided to try and gift them all their true houses’ furniture, little by little. I know they can’t change their wallpapers or floors, but hopefully if I get them the right couches, beds, etc, they’ll display them all. 🤞

#animal crossing #animal crossing new horizons #long post #my post

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squidpro-quo · 5 years

Text

Misunderstandings

AN: For @sup-poki and @mintchocolateleaves‘s emogust, I guess I have a habit of making Shinichi think Kaito’s up to something bad, this time not in a supermarket but same idea

Shinichi rounded the corner, legs pumping as he fought not to skid from taking the turn at speed and headed along the hedgerow back towards the row of shops in downtown. He would get in right on time, even Hakuba couldn’t complain about his tardiness today when he’d scheduled his morning run to end exactly at ten minutes before opening. He entertained the thought of turning the clocks back again just to see how Hakuba dealt with it when they were supposed to be reshelving the new arrivals from the publishing companies but decided it would be too petty, for now.

He glanced at the signs as he ran past, still at the point of memorizing the road names and not getting lost but now that he had a surer map of the layout he had the time to enjoy the silly names of things more. A Stitch in Thyme, Lucy Goosy’s Gourmet Goodies, Kill Bill’s Chill Grill, he didn’t have the breath to laugh at the moment but he did slow down a bit as he ran by the first one. The scent of jasmine wafted out of the hedgerow, enticing him to take a few deep breaths until he was more power-walking than full-out jogging anymore.

“I will murder whoever did this to you. They’ll be choking on their own juices for daring to touch you. I’ve got just the thing, they won’t see it coming. Won’t be the first time either.”

The menacing words froze Shinichi’s thoughts and he stopped in his tracks, glancing behind him to see who had said it. The sidewalk was empty, no one around who could have uttered such a blood-curdling promise with such fervor. The sound of metal being unsheathed sounded from behind the hedge and Shinichi wondered if he was doing business down the street from a murderer.

“Don’t worry, no one will see you looking like this. I’ll bury you before anyone comes by. Trust me, it’ll be quick.”

He’d been hot from the fall haze before but now the sweat was chilling on his back as he listened to the sounds of earth being moved and the laborious breathing to accompany the backbreaking work. Shinichi crept closer to the bushes, trying to peer through them but the leaves were too full and thick to let through anything besides a few flashes of color as someone passed by. What was he supposed to do, confront them? It didn’t feel safe to just accuse people of being murderers when he was just a hapless nobody. He’d read more detective novels than was likely healthy, but standing there pointing at a suspect and declaring that he knew the one truth was ridiculous at best.

A heavy thud, something being dropped into the unseen pit, before more grunts as the dirt was shoveled back over it.

“Come spring, no one will recognize you. I’ve got the perfect fertilizer, the dead will have their revenge.”

Shinichi had stepped too close, a leaf crunching underneath his shoes and the threatening voice suddenly called out, much closer than before.

“Who’s there? Hello?”

Shinichi backtracked, taking a few stumbling steps before remembering he had to get to the bookstore before it opened or Hakuba would kill him. Not that he had much concern for that now, with what he’d heard so far. He’d only reached the first storefront when the door opened and man in a sunhat carrying a large bundle of sunflowers crashed into him.

“Ah, sorry! Didn’t see you there,” the man said, swaying back with one hand holding his frayed hat to his head.

Shinichi smiled politely, recognizing the voice, even if it was much lighter and kinder than before.

“No, no… no harm done.” He hoped that was true, awkwardly stepping back from the man.

“Heh, good luck that. I just saved these from some grubs and caterpillars, it’s dead siblings are resting in peace in the backyard but these are fresh for the picking.”

“Do… do you always talk so violently about your plants?” Shinichi blurted out, once realization dawned. He glanced down at the man’s cheerfully cactus patterned apron and the nametag identifying him as ‘Kaito’, before meeting his eyes again.

“Err, I guess I tend to get a bit heated when those critters get to my little ones. Sorry, were you the one I heard back there?”

“It’s nothing, my imagination got away from me,” Shinichi admitted, trying not to stare at the smudge of dirt across Kaito’s nose and cheekbones. The ladybugs splattered across his gardening gloves were too cheerful for someone he’d been suspecting of premeditated murder earlier.

“Are you from down the road?” Kaito asked, lowering the sunflowers from between them. With the sun shining down on them, Shinichi lost his tongue for a bit as the wind picked up and played with the edges of Kaito’s hair.

“Y-yeah. The bookshop. We’ve only been open for a few weeks.” Remembering his job, Shinichi added on, “We’re having a sale right now, stop by if you want a mystery. Or any other book.”

“Sure, I’ll be by on my break then. Been meaning to check you guys out for a while, just never found the time.”

“Check us out, feel free!” Shinichi thought he might have put a bit too much verve into that statement when Kaito’s grin turned a bit too cheeky to be innocent.

“Here, to put that wild imagination at ease,” Kaito said, offering Shinichi a sunflower almost as big as his head. “On the house as the first customer of the day.”

Shinichi took it with a slightly dumbfounded look, trying to think of where the hell they’d get a vase big enough to not overbalance from it, but he couldn’t be bothered with it at the moment. Kaito tipped his straw hat with a wink before turning to splay the remaining flowers in front of the store. Shinichi twirled the stem between his fingers the rest of the way back to the bookshop, finding a place at the front desk for the sunflower much to Hakuba’s consternation at the space it took up. Even so, Shinichi didn’t mind the excessive shelving that was his payment for arriving late.

#DCMKEmogust2019 #DCMK #Kuroba Kaito #Kudou Shinichi #detective conan #My writing #inspiration came from a combination of a kaito holding sunflowers pic that I saw recently and a haikyuu comic #usually i go for the flower language angle but this time i just goshdarn love sunflowers and after movie 19 #i needed kaito with some less flammable sunflowers #ugh they're such pretty flowers #my favorites after yellow roses #guess i have a type

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mbakusthrone · 6 years

Text

Fever: Pt. 15 [M’Baku x Reader]

Summary: The reader, M’Baku, T’Challa, Okoye and Shuri engage in the final battle in the Forest of Red Trees

@lovelynervouschaos @mottergirl99 @palmsofgranate @therevolution-willbelive @part-time-patronus @roman-reigns-princess @muse-of-mbaku @thiccdaddy-mbaku @mermaidchansons @kreolemami @imagine-mbaku @killmongersaidheyauntie @killmoncoochie @melaninmarvel @zuzuspanda @maliadestiny

You told M’Baku everything. Everything. The dreams, The Girl In Black, your mother. It was like you couldn’t hold anything in anymore. After almost losing him, almost losing yourself, it didn’t seem like it mattered to keep any secrets. M’Baku walked silently as he listened, his face unmoving and his eyes straight ahead. His hand fully enveloped yours, his grip almost too tight on your wrist. T’Challa, Okoye, and Shuri followed close behind, still shivering from your unexpected blast of ice.

You were headed to the Forest of Red Trees, what M’Baku was planning to do once he got there you did not know. He seemingly read your mind as he stopped in his tracks, interrupting you in mid sentence.

It was quiet for a few seconds. The type of quiet that you can only get from light snowfall. A sort of reverent stillness that made your heart ache. On your first night living in the Jabari lands, it was this quiet peace that made you think, possibly, that everything would be alright.

“What? Why did we stop?” Shuri shivered.

M’Baku looked down at you, his grip on your wrist tightened. You almost thought you saw tears threatening to fall from his eyes.

“M’Baku..” You barely whispered.

“Whatever may happen,” M’Baku breathed, his eyes staring straight into yours, “We fight together.”

“All of us.” You said, taking a hand to palm your stomach. T’Challa put a heavy hand on your shoulder.

“Let us get a move on,” T’Challa said, “I think we may have found what we are looking for.” T’Challa pointed to a clearing just within sight. The trees there were stained red. You nodded your head and took a step forward.

Your foot landed in a warm puddle of water. Startled, you staggered back, only to realize that you were ankle deep in water. You looked up to M’Baku, but he wasn’t there, no one was there. It was only you.

Another vision.

You swung around, looking for your mother. Colossal trees covered in moss and vines towered over you. The chirping sounds of critters and other animals created a harmony of nature, so loud it was buzzing in your ears. The air felt warm and moist, sweat already rolling down your face. You were in a swamp.

“Mother!” You called. You began trudging through the water, the thick mud and grass making it hard for you to walk. “Mother!” It was almost as if the water was grabbing on to you, the grass tangling between your toes and almost yanking you down. You realized the water was now up to your shins. Your heart thudded in your chest as you remembered your dream of drowning in an ocean of blood. You ran faster, your muscles painfully straining to pull from the muck. The cloudy, green water was already up to your stomach. The water suddenly started moving, like a stream. It was trying to push you over, topple you into the water. “No!! Mother! Help!” You screamed. You looked down into the water, down into your reflection. It wasn’t you. Your face was the same, sort of. It was more angled, and softer. Your lips were fuller and your eyes wider. Your fro was larger, fuller. Decorated by a large yellow crown.

Oshun.

The water began rushing faster, sweeping across your chest. The vines and greens of the swamp wrapping around your legs and pulling you down. Staring at your reflection, you took a deep breath and dove into the water.

“Y/N!!?” M’Baku shook you by your shoulders. Your eyes were misted over with a deathly gray color.

“M’Baku stop!” Shuri cried “There’s no use in that. You can only wait until she wakes up.”

“Listen to her!” Okoye hissed. “We might as well keep going.”

M’Baku stared at you in his hands. If it weren’t for your breathing, he would have thought you were dead. M’Baku took off his furs and wrapped them around you. Tying you to his chest, he nodded to T’Challa and Okoye.

“Let’s go.” He grunted.

You waded calmly in the water, holding your breath as hard as you could. Reflections of sunlight danced within the green waters, you caught glimpses of fish swimming below you. Your chest started to hurt. If this was where Oshun wanted you to be, she would have to communicate with you soon before you ran out of air. You turned to start swimming, and almost collided with a large black fish. Startled, you flew black and gasped.

Wait. Gasped?

You took a shaky breath. Then another. You could breathe down here.

“Interesting, is it not?” A voice echoed. You yelped and whirled around. It was you...almost. A more beautiful you. The reflection that stared back at you in the water. She was covered in jewelry, varying shades of gold and white. Flowing, gold robes covered her, waving with the currents. Her crown gleamed with the reflection of the sunlight. She saw your look of bewilderment and laughed.

“Is it really you?” Your voice echoed.

“It really is you.” She responded. You frowned.

“I’m confused.” She swam towards you, or rather, moved. She didn’t have to swim, the water pushed her towards you.

“You know, I am glad that I chose someone as strong as you as my vessel.”

“Strong?”

“Yes, do you not think so?”

You considered it. T’Challa was a powerhouse of fighting skills. Okoye was a fierce warrior. There was no questions of M’Baku’s strength. Even Shuri’s strength was her massive intellect. What did you have? A cane?

“Those things do not matter.” Oshun said simply. You were taken aback.

“Can you….”

“I AM your mind, Y/N. That’s why I know the strength that lies within you. You are powerful beyond your wildest imagination, the only question is, will you let your fear and emotions block that power?”

“I want to be brave, but I’m too scared.”

“Brave... scared, these are the same things, Y/N. You cannot have one without the other.”

Oshun took both of your hands in hers. They were the same, exact size and shape. Your hands were rougher than hers.

“If you let them win, it will destroy all of Wakanda. It will destroy the whole world. You are the key.”

“How can I be? I can’t fight with a baby and a possessive husband.”

“The fact that your husband and child are in danger SHOULD be the reason you fight.”

Everyone jumped back at the sound of you gasping back to reality. Quickly untying you, M’Baku steadied you on your feet. Your eyes unclouded back to normal, and you looked at your husband with determined eyes.

“We’re here.” You breathed. Looking up, you noticed the grass before you was green and flourished, completely untouched by the snow. In fact, the entire clearing seemed like a simulation of a perfect spring day. Birds were chirping, yet there were no birds in sight. The sky was clear blue, but with a grayish tint. The trees and grass were moving with the wind, but there was no breeze. Something was definitely off.

Letting go of your husband’s hands, you slowly walked into the clearing.

“Y/N…” M’Baku warned. You ignored him, looking up into the trees, lined with bright, sparkly red leaves and vines that wrapped around the trunk. It was unnatural. But there was something that irked you even more. You closed your eyes and tried to listen, there was a soft beat, seemingly coming from everywhere. You bent down and pressed your hand to the ground. It was almost like…..

“A pulse.” T’Challa finished. His Panther Claw was fixed into the ground. “The forest has a heartbeat.”

“Y/N…” A voice called out from the forest. The hairs on the back of M��Baku’s neck stood straight up, M’Baku stood in front of you, his spear ready. A chill went down your spine as you recognized the voice from your blood dream. You stared hard at a red shadow within the trees, it was if it was calling to you. You squinted. You could almost make out a-

A thick, veined vine shot from the shadow within the trees, headed right towards you. M’Baku grabbed you and rolled out of the way. Before you could blink, three more vines attacked from beyond the clearing. T’Challa pushed Shuri back and barely dodged a vine. Okoye jumped and slashed a vine with her spear. You ducked under M’Baku as he blocked the attack with his shield.

For a few seconds, it was dead silent. No fake birds, false wind. M’Baku peered over at his shield. It was steaming with sparkled red liquid.

“The vines! They’re poisoned!” M’Baku called out. Shuri groaned.

“Of course they are!”

“Well damn,” A deep, blood curdling voice vibrated through the forest. “It’s been a while hasn’t it cousin?”

T’Challa stood up, a angry fear rushing through him.

“N’JADAKA!!” He screamed. A red vine whipped around the trunk of a tree, then another. Vines were stabbing into the ground and moving forward as if...they were walking.

You all watched in horror, as a heavily scarred figure, accompanied by disgusting, veined red vines that acted as limbs, climbed into view.

Killmonger.

Half of his face was his, the other half a terrifying mask of red vines. A half head of dreads poked from his head, a half smile lined with gold teeth. The smile widened.

“Ya’ll missed me?” He joked.

Okoye wasted no time throwing her spear directly at the monster. Killmonger’s vine caught the spear and broke it in half, throwing the remnants into the forest. “I sho didn’t miss yo ass.”

Okoye ducked and rolled behind T’Challa as one of Killmonger’s limbs almost shot right through her.

“Why are you doing this?” T’Challa yelled.

Killmonger leaned back and let out a gagged chortle. It was almost laughter.

“Well it looks like W’Kabi wasn’t the only one who wanted to join the Killmonger stan club. A whole flock of em wanted to worship me. Me! Once my man Mandarin found me and made me what I am, it was almost too easy. Help him defeat the Avengers, I get Wakanda. Easy.”

“Look at yourself, N’Jadaka. You’re a monster!” T’Challa removed his mask.

“I’M ALREADY WHAT YOU THOUGHT I WAS!” The trees shook with Killmonger’s scream. Your eyes widened. Killmonger wasn’t just a part of the forest. He WAS the forest. Throughout the clearing, a mass of warriors appeared beyond the trees. “But it’s okay though, this all be over soon.”

You stepped from behind M’Baku’s shield, revealing yourself. A vine rose and pointed at your forehead. M’Baku quickly stood up, you held a hand up to stop him.

“You.” Killmonger said, his word shaking the ground under you.

“What is your quarrel with me?” You said confidently.

“I remember you, in the water, right before I was reborn. You tried to drown me. Told me you would never let me win. You was a lot finer in the water tho.” Killmonger half smirked. Your heart thudded in your chest. Oshun. A vine whipped towards you at impossible speed. Without thinking, your arm reacted and sliced through the vine. The dismembered limb fell to the ground and withered up into a black twig. You looked at your arm in awe, it was covered in a thick layer of ice, an almost dagger like sword shaped on you. Killmonger looked down in fury. “AYE!” He called. A tall, black haired man stepped into the clearing. The Mandarin. “KILL THESE NIGGAS!”

T’Challa whipped into action.

“Okoye, Shuri, M’Baku! Handle the warriors! I’ll take him.” T’Challa pointed to The Mandarin.

Shuri pulled out her Panther Blasters. Okoye whipped out another spear from her armor. M’Baku was already charging. You heart beat in your ears. It was battle. Real battle. Something each of them had been trained for. For maybe their whole lives. You were trained for nothing.

“Y/N!!” Your husband called to you. He whipped several knives out of the air and stabbed a white robed person in their chest. “FIGHT!!”

That was all you needed. Several vines shot through the air. You ran, slicing through any vines that threatened your life.

“You the only thing that’s in my way, little girl.” Killmonger seethed, sparkled red liquid dripping from his golden fangs. Your breath was caught in your chest and you were already heaving. You weren’t cut out for this. You spun and cut as many vines as you could. They were coming faster than you could cut them. “That won’t be for long though.”

Running into the trees, you stopped behind a tree and folded yourself as small as possible.

“Y/N…..” Killmonger called in a sinister sing song voice. “Where you aaaaaat.”

You put your head in your arms to quiet your breathing. You couldn’t do this. You were in over your head. If only your powers had been given to Okoye, or M’Baku. A tear fell down your cheek. You were too weak. The sound of rippling water made you look up. It was a puddle, right beside you. You crawled over and looked down into it. Ohsun didn’t stare back at you. It was your regular self, dirt covered face and grass sprinkled fro. Red eyes and frowned eyebrows. But...it was you. You were still there. There was no denying that. You had done some crazy, stupid, scary things to get there. Scary things. Brave things. There was no difference. You stared down at your hands. You were scared AND brave. “THERE YOU ARE.” Killmonger growled in your ear. You jumped back and willed the puddle into your hands as a spear. You thrust the spear with all your strength into Killmonger’s scarred eye. Killmonger screamed in painful anguish. You scrambled to your feet and sprinted back to the clearing. You watched as your husband whipped his spear, his massive frame completely engulfed in combat. He turned to you, almost sensing your presence. Your heart filled with ache and you ran to him, desperate to be close to him.

A vine shot out from behind you hurtling towards M’Baku. Your heart stopped as you turned and sliced through the vine. You fell to your knees, looking for your husband.

It was too late.

You watched as the vine, stabbed completely into M’Baku, wither to black.

No. No.

“NO!” You screamed, falling onto his chest. You watched as his armor filled with his blood, mixing with sparkled red poison. M’Baku coughed, sparkled blood dripping from his mouth. Your chest cracked and shattered into a million pieces. Your hands shook as you wavered over his wound, unsure of what to do. “M’Baku no, you can’t. Please. Please! Please!” You begged to no one. Your tears fell onto your bloodied hands. M’Baku’s eyes rolled over to you, his eyes already brimming with poison. He put a weak hand on your stomach.

“I...love you both.” He choked out, his eyes rolled back and he sighed into silence.

He was dead.

“Awww. My bad. Did I do that?” Killmonger’s voice vibrated behind you. You balled your hands into fists on M’Baku’s armor. You started to shake, anguish, fury, and mourning setting in your blood and rushing through your core. Tears fell down your face as your eyes clouded over a misty white. Your body began to levitate into the air, your fury climbing by the second. The blue sky darkened, the sounds of thunder in the distance.

T’Challa dodged a swing from The Mandarin and kicked him in his chest. Before he could attack again, a dark shadow passed over the clearing. He looked up to see black clouds looming over the trees. A wind was picking up, a real wind, a strong wind. T’Challa picked up a familiar scent. It was Earthy, and salty. It smelled like, the ocean. T’Challa saw you in the air, your eyes a terrifying glowing white, your arms and legs formed an open stance. Your face was full of tears and anger. The ground began to shake, he could feel something coming.

“Look!” Okoye called out. The warriors began to scream and run. Behind your figure was a greyish white wave, as tall as a skyscraper, headed right for the clearing. Right before the wave hit, T’Challa tackled Shuri and covered her.

You challenged water to bend at your will. You willed the wave to spin itself, around and around, until it became a Whirlwind Spear, pointed directly at your husband’s murderer. Killmonger’s limbs tried to whip out and lash at you, but the water sliced it away. Killmonger looked up at you with astonished fear. You stared down at him and pointed a finger at him. Killmonger stared back, and bared his teeth at you.

“You think I’m scared of a fuckin puddle? Bitch Imma KILL YOU!!” Killmonger launched himself at you, his vines poised for attack. Black spots started to cloud your vision. With one last scream, you rushed your Whirlwind Spear, impaling Killmonger in the chest. The World went to black.

#m’baku #black panther #m’baku imagine #m’baku x reader #black panther fanfiction #fever #fanfiction #m’baku fic #black reader #m’baku imagines

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edensgay · 6 years

Text

The Proposal

The Proposal: A Joey Hudson Fanfiction

Relationship: Joey Hudson x OFC!Deputy PRE-FC5

Rating: All Ages!

Summary: Joey plans to propose to her girlfriend, not knowing that her girlfriend is planning on proposing to her.

Warnings: Gay! SO GAY! Do not read if you’re not okay with that. Cursing, mention of puke.

Word Count: 1,662

Author’s Note: What’s up I’m back with that gay shit. I keep seeing cute videos of double proposals so I had to do this. Also, please note that I know the girls in the aesthetic board are both very white. Maddy and Joey are not, this is just because I couldn’t find another picture that cute.

Joey had it all planned out, she’d woken up before Maddy and pulled the little black box out of her work boot. She wiggled Sir Testy out of her girlfriends grasp and proceeded to tie the ring onto his bandanna, setting him on a nearby shelf when she deemed him finished.

The stuffed frog rarely left their shared bed, when it did end up on the floor or somewhere else in the house Maddy would promptly find it and bring back to where it belonged. Joey’s plan was foolproof.

Little did she know that Maddy had gotten up two hours before and placed all their mugs in the dishwasher save for one a brand new mug she'd gotten just for today, in a scheme of her own.

Joey couldn’t keep the smile off her face as she made her morning coffee, she didn’t bat an eye at the sight of the lone brand new mug. Maddy had a penchant for buying pretty much every mug she laid her eyes on. Joey never complained, after all Madeline let her keep a massive collection of touristy and downright tacky beer pints.

She stepped outside and sat on their porch, sipping her coffee with barely contained glee as she waited for her girlfriend to wake up. The morning was quiet, save for a few chirping birds and the rustling of wildlife in the grass. Joey had a routine, every morning she would get up and have her morning coffee outside, basking in the Montana sun.

Maddy usually slept in late, or sometimes wouldn’t be home in the morning at all. She had bizarre hours, sometimes working for thirty-six hours straight and other times working only a typical nine to five. Her sleep schedule was inconsistent at best, which had made it hard for Joey to plan this.

It was just coming into spring, they’d been sleeping with their windows open so they could feel the fresh air, the sounds of crickets and other critters lulling them to sleep at night. The open windows allowed Joey to hear when her girlfriend started stirring, butterflies promptly taking flight in her stomach.

She downed half her cup of coffee, smiling at the words on the lip of the mug ‘Good Morning Beautiful.’ She chuckled to herself at her girlfriends antics, bouncing her leg up and down as she waited for Maddy to get her bearings, the girl was the furthest thing from a morning person. She listened intently, hearing her girlfriend swear as she stumbled and smacked into the bathroom doorway, just like every other morning.

A few more shuffling sounds and then she heard Maddy’s voice, “Babe? Have you seen Sir Testy?”

The butterflies in her stomach threatened to crawl out of her throat and spew themselves into the world. “No idea.” She replied, standing up and taking a deep breath, this was it.

A moment later she heard Maddy’s voice again “Oh! I found him.”

A long pause, Joey was sure she was going to puke from nerves. She wiped her sweaty palms on her pajama pants, shuffling the mug from one hand to the other as she gulped down the clean valley air.

“Joey?” Her voice cracked, coming out in a barely audible whisper. Joey almost didn't hear her over her heart beat thundering in her ears.

That was her cue, she pushed into the house, jumping as the door slammed behind her. She fidgeted as she headed towards the bedroom, stopping to glance at the thermos stat on the wall, wondering how seventy degrees could feel so hot. Pausing in the hall to get down on one knee she downed the rest of her coffee and was about to set it on a nearby shelf when she glimpsed words at the bottom of her mug, she held it up and squinted as she read the fine print.

‘Will you marry me?’

“Maddy?” Her girlfriends name came out as a soft squeak, as all the air in her lungs escaped with a whoosh.

She'd worried for weeks that Maddy would say no, she'd agonized over the right words to say and the right time to do it. Now, none of that mattered, Maddy was going to propose to her too. They chose the same day, same time to declare their love to each other.

Madeline came around the corner holding a little black box in one hand and Sir Testy in the other, her eyes wide and shining with unshed tears as she spotted Joey on one knee.

“Holy fuck.” She whispered, dropping to a knee in front of her girlfriend as they both stared at each other in awe.

Joey let out a nervous laugh, “What are the odds?” Her legs felt numb, as if she'd been sitting on the toilet playing candy crush for hours.

“This is so gay.” Madeline said giving her girlfriend a dazed smile, there may as well have been stars in her eyes as she took in the sight before her.

Joey knew that what she said didn't matter, Madeline was going to say yes. The heavy feeling that had been weighing down her chest since she picked up the ring dissipated, her over rehearsed speech forgotten.

“Madeline-Ann Reese, when I met you three years ago I made a complete ass of myself. I asked you how frequently you got stabbed, because I wanted to talk to you. I didn’t care what it was about, all I wanted was to hear your voice.” Joey did her best to keep her voice even, to keep the shakiness at bay.

Maddy let out a strangled sob, wiping her face with the back of the hand that she clutched the stuffed frog in as she listened to Joey’s words.

“Our first date I picked you up in my squad car because I still had two hours before I got off but I couldn’t wait another minute to see you. We got coffee and drove up to the Whitetails where we sat on the hood of my car and talked until two in the morning.”

Her voice cracked as she continued, her eyesight getting bleary with unshed tears. She leaned forward, taking the stuffed frog from her girlfriend, untying the ring from it neck with shaky hands.

“We were having a picnic, watching a meteor shower when you called me a ‘dumb space loving dweeb’ and asked me to be your girlfriend. Now, here we are. Proposing to each other at the same time, like a couple of fuckin’ dorks.”

The girl in front of her let out a garbled laugh, wiping at her tear stained cheeks.

“Will you marry me?” She held the ring out to her girlfriend, rose gold with a moonstone surrounded by four small diamonds.

“Josephine Hudson,” Joey cringed at the usage of her full name, knowing that Maddy only used it because she knew she could get away with it, “You’re the love of my life, there’s nobody else who’s snores I’d want to hear for the rest of my life.”

Joey laughed, blinking away a fresh wave of tears. If Madeline was less afraid of babbling she would have told Joey about how on nights when they couldn't fall asleep together she laid awake for hours, unable to sleep without the sound of her girlfriends snorts wrapping around her like a blanket.

“You feed my peanut butter addiction, and let me braid your hair even though I’m really bad at it.” She stopped to hiccup and wipe at the joy that stained her face in the form of tears once more.

“When we first kissed everything clicked into place, like you were what I’d always been missing. I’ve known that I wanted to marry you since you brought me a jar of peanut butter after you got off a 13 hour shift because you knew I’d been craving it all day.”

She pulled out the ring she’d gotten for Joey, a small swirling golden ring with a dainty leaf and a chunk of meteorite.

"You complete me, you're the piece I didn't know I was missing."

Both of their dams broke at the same time as they lunged for each other, crying as they shuffled to place the rings on their respective fingers. They toppled to the ground, holding each other and laughing as warm tears streamed down their faces. They laid on the floor of their hallway, whispering how happy they were to each other for an hour before they finally got themselves together.

Joey got up first, stumbling on shaky legs as she reached down to help her fiancée up. The two stood in the hallway holding onto each other in silence, both of them basking in the moment.

“Where did you get it?” Maddy asked, her arms wrapped around Joeys neck. She looked at her hand, admiring the dainty ring, she was fucking engaged. She had a fiancée, the realization hit her like a bus as she fought to keep a fresh wave of tears at bay.

“A few weeks ago when I went to lunch with my mom we went over to Missoula.” She explained, pulling Maddy suffocatingly close to her. Joey could hardly breathe but she didn't care, there was no possible way for her to be physically close enough to Maddy in this moment.

“I got yours on etsy.”

Joey froze, pulling away from her to give her an incredulous look. “Is that why you were being such a gremlin about the mail?”

She’d been awful, hovering around the mailbox like a fly around a particularly interesting piece of unattented food. Every time Joey got to the mail before her she’d snatch the mail from her hands and run into the other room to go through it before giving Joey her rejects.

“I wasn’t being a gremlin!”

Joey had it all planned out, what she hadn’t planned on was her girlfriend -now fiancée- planning on proposing at the same time.

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kaytebeans · 6 years

Text

The Seasons of Woods Chpt. 1

Stardew Valley fanfic

Ships: Harvey x Female Farmer

Angst, past abuse, OC has a secret, slow burn, friends to lovers, main character with depression.

Please let me know if you’d like to be tagged in the future.

Summary: Chloe Woods is running from a past life that's far darker than she lets on. While it is only spring in Stardew Valley, Chloe is facing the winter of her life. Chloe faces challenges of farm life during the year's seasons. All the while, she meets new people and becomes close to the town's doctor. You don’t have to have played Stardew Valley to read, but you should man. It’s a good game.

Welcome to Stardew

The smell of earth surrounded Chloe Woods and she could only partially listen in on Lewis and Robin’s conversation. It would have been a peaceful moment if she couldn’t smell those damn wild onions. Her belly rumbled and she salivated at the aroma. She would give anything for access to an all-you-can-eat buffet, instead, she chewed on her lip and planned her next meal.

Robin’s laughter snapped Chloe back to reality and she smiled half-heartedly at the woman. If they could see where she used to call home, they wouldn’t be joking about the condition of the cabin. A cabin that was Chloe’s salvation.

It was surreal gazing upon her grandfather’s old home. Woods’ Farm was carved into ornate letters above the door’s frame. The wooden porch still looked fairly sturdy, with firewood resting at the side of the cabin. Old, rotten, and useless probably. Thankfully it was spring and she’d have plenty of time to worry about managing the fireplace. The cabin’s red door was in need of a fresh coat of paint, but Chloe hardly cared how pretty the door was as long as it could shut behind her and shield her from the rest of the world.

She thanked the two before starting up the steps with her suitcase in hand.

“Oh- let me help ya there, Miss Chloe.” Lewis chimed in.

Before Chloe could even think to protest, the bag was gently taken from her hands. The old Mayor opened her door then nodded. Chloe supposed that meant, ‘ladies first.’ Not really a concept she’d ever been privy to in the city.

“Thank you, Lewis.” Chloe smiled and raked dull, oily brown hair out of her face. She chewed on the raw skin of her bottom lip and took in her surroundings.

“Pierre’s is open today- well every day except Wednesdays. Ya might visit if you need anything before the rest of your stuff gets in.” Lewis eyed the single bag and looked back at her with a friendly grin.

“That’d be good. Thank you,” Chloe lied. The bag was it. All of it. The only belongings she had in the world. That and whatever was inside of the old house. She was certain that included critters if tiny droppings by the rusty fridge were to indicate anything.

Chloe gave another rigid smile as Lewis made his way to the exit. When the door opened, there was that smell again, crashing into her and bringing with it another reminder of her stomach’s emptiness.

Before Chloe could say ‘goodbye’, Lewis turned back to her, snapping his finger. “Shoot, almost forgot.” He pulled a crumpled envelope from his pocket. “Here’s something to help get you started. Parsnips. They’re pretty easy to grow from what I understand.”

Chloe’s brow furrowed for a moment before she realized he was handing her seeds, and she was, supposedly, a farmer. “Oh- oh! Yes, uh- thank you. I appreciate it.” She extended her hand and took the seeds from him.

After saying their goodbyes, Chloe watched out the window as Lewis’ form got smaller and smaller. When she was sure he wouldn’t return, she took a deep breath and sighed. Throwing the parsnip seeds on the kitchen counter, she hurried to the sink and turned on the water. The faucet gurgled until brown water finally gushed into the sink and down the drain.

“Shit.” Chloe hissed. Should have known.

She left the water running while she searched the contents of her suitcase. Chloe shuffled through her clothing until she found it, an envelope stuffed full of cash. She stared hard at the money, hating herself for how she’d acquired it. It didn’t matter now though. It was there. It was there and she was hungry. No, she was starving.

Chloe’s eyes wandered back to the running water. It was clearer now. Not perfect, but it didn’t look like swamp water anymore at least. Her tired sea green eyes turned back to the dirty money, much dirtier than the water running in her kitchen sink. For a moment she felt a vice grip tighten, pinching her chest so hard she couldn’t breathe.

Suck it up, you dumbass.

She shook her head, grabbed the money, and turned the water off all before going back outside again. And there was that damned smell.

Joja Mart, at its best, was a place of convenience. Food was affordable and it had about anything you could think to buy. At its worst? Well, Chloe was a testament to Joja Mart at its worst.

Until the day before traveling to Stardew Valley, Chloe had been a hard-working employee. She always at work on time, and always doing as she was told. In return, Joja Mart provided her barely enough money for shelter and food. Emergencies were off the table, and living paycheck to paycheck wasn’t exactly living.

That’s why stepping into the damned store for food was like a slap in the face. But she was sure there was no way she could afford anything from Pierre's. Local shops weren’t exactly ‘poor friendly’.

Chloe maneuvered her buggy through the aisles, tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth and belly growling. Cereal, bread, milk… Her mental checklist was cut short when her cart crashed into something. When she snapped her head forward she was mortified to see she’d run straight into a Joja Mart worker. He gave her an irritated look, and she couldn’t say she blamed him.

“I’m so, so sorry.” Chloe shrunk in on herself.

The worker, ‘Shane’ according to his name tag, simply huffed and turned back to his work stocking the shelf.

The rest of her grocery shopping was done in haste.

The walk back to her new home was the longest she’d ever made. Her hunger was now more than just an annoying ache, but a sharp pain. She longed for her stomach to be sufficiently filled, and let her hand rest on her belly. The way she’d taken was supposedly a short-cut, but now she was beginning to wonder. It didn’t help that she was expending all of her energy walking up a steep hill.

Her quiet walk came to a halt as she came face to face with an old man who looked as though he’d come from the wild. The man was foraging berries, stuffing the ripened fruit into an old tattered Joja Mart bag, one of those cloth bags from when it was trendy to bring your own bag to the store. Trendy, but not quite convenient enough for shoppers who soon abandoned the fad.

Chloe’s eyes darted away from him before she realized it was rude. Slowly looking back, she nodded at the white haired man and made her way on up the hill. His home finally came into view. A tent. Chloe sighed, at least he has berries.

She grit her teeth and walked on, not daring to look back his way. If she looked back, she’d give up her only food.

Finally, back in the security of her home, Chloe didn’t even wait to put up the food before opening up a package of hotdogs and scarfing a couple down. After at least something was in her belly, she put away the rest of her food, rinsed off a dusty plate and pulled out a couple more hotdogs. Chloe inspected the brown microwave, truly a blast from the past. She turned its knobs and held her breath. By some miracle, the ancient device worked. Chloe placed the hotdogs on grandpa’s apple print plate to heat up the rest of her meal.

She turned back to the kitchen sink and let the water run yet again. Still not crystal clear, but it would have to do. Her lips touched the stream of water and she gulped as hard as she could. Chloe’s throat thanked her, finally feeling soothed. Her chapped lips, on the other hand, stung at first contact. She drank without a thought and only pulled up when she heard a dissonant buzzing that indicated her hotdogs were sufficiently nuked.

Chloe stood up and liquid sloshed in her full belly. She felt the rolling in her stomach and groaned. “I’m such an idiot.” She felt as though she actually needed to hear the words, or else she might repeat such a mistake. Not that it’d been her first mistake, and it certainly wouldn’t be her last.

Her first night at Woods’ Farm wasn’t a red letter one, but she was full, and she was warm, and she had a door. It was enough.

#stardew valley #stardew valley fanfic #harvey stardew valley #harvey x female farmer

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kaseylynnwriting · 6 years

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The Flower that couldn’t Die

Years After the Celestial Siblings ascended to the sky, there lived a child named Koenai. She was a girl of unsurmounted beauty, but she was known for being exceptionally reclusive.

From the day of her birth, she lived with her mother in the mountains of Fiera. When asked about her father, Koenai merely smiled and responded by glancing at a vase of white-flowers that her mother kept in a vase on the windowsill.

“He is there,” She murmured, and those who had asked always nodded, uncertain of whether or not she meant that he had left the flowers, or if they merely reminded Koenai of a long absent father.

Eventually, they stopped asking, but the question lingered in the minds of the villagers who lived at the base of the mountain. Koenai was too pretty… it wasn’t natural. Her mother had to have done something to have such a lovely child...a deal with the devil…? A contract of dark magic?

Soon, the beauty that had her revered as a child, made her hated as a young woman. So, she remained in her mountain home- alone and safe from the envious villagers.

Years passed, and soon Koenai’s aging mother passed on. Koenai wept, and as she lay her mother to rest, one of the flowers drooped, and all of its petals fell onto the windowsill.

It was odd...the flowers had lived for sixteen years without a single wilt. They thrived through harsh winters, burning sun-light and two-droughts. How could it start to die now?

Koenai scooped the petals into a little jar, so as to preserve them, and tried to move forward with heaviness in her heart.

A year later, a great storm came. Koenai felt surely that the flowers would start to die once more, but the two that remained stayed upright, as fine and strong as the day her mother placed them on the windowsill.

That night, when the storm had just begun to cease, a knock sounded upon her door. Koenai was wrought with hesitation, opened the door.

The girl who stood upon her threshold reminded her of stars.

Though drenched from the rain, the girl smiled as though she’d seen Heaven with her own eyes, and just got back to tell everyone about it. She giggled as though Lahana herself had kissed her cheeks and held her in her arms until the rain had passed.

Koenai watched as they sat inside together and the girl dried herself by the fire. Despite being soaked to the bone, with every inch of her clothing ruined, and despite the chill and nagging cough that had settled in, the girl radiated a bizarre kind of warmth that Koenai hadn’t felt in years.

“Your name,” Koenai demanded after an hour of so of sweet-silence. “I need to know your name.”

The girl gave another sunlight-filled grin as she looked up from the fire, “My name is Thetenmari.”

It was an odd name, at least by Koenai’s standards. Then again, for the villagers who had shunned her, it could have been a rather common name.

Thetenmari did not leave the next day, when the storm passed and Kanadu’s light warmed the earth.

She did not leave a week later, when all of her clothes had been repaired.

She did not leave a month later, when she and Koenai had fallen asleep in one another’s arms.

She did not leave when Koenai pulled her down and kissed her, just to see if her lips were warm, too.

She kissed back, and though neither of them knew the world for it- the warmth that they felt when they touched one another- they’d fallen in love.

As rain falls to the earth- pulled, without effort or control, they fell in love.

Years passed. Koenai’s beauty continued to shine, but Thetenmari’s heart outshined all.

“What do you wish?” Koenai murmured, her head settled in her lover’s lap some time in late winter.

“A child,” She answered, twirling her fingers in the other’s hair. “Someone to teach and love. Someone to remember me when I’m gone.”

Koenai frowned, her brow furrowed. “I’ll remember you. Where are you going to go?”

Thetenmari felt her heart tremble, and for the first time, Koenai felt sadness in her presence.

“I mean when I die- when we die.” She answered, forcing her lips into a small smile. Death was never something that she wanted, but it was a part of life that both of them understood.

“We have a long time to think about that,” Koenai muttered, settling her head back down. She had not realized that they’d gotten old. In her joy, they’d both been unaware of the passage of time, of the changes to their own body.

Koenai was no longer a young woman. Most who knew of her as a child had long since passed on.

That spring, Thetenmari discovered something among the milk-flowers and weeds of their garden.

A child.

As if sent from Lahana and made purely out of love, there she was.

She had the beauty of Koenai, and the golden soul of Thetenmari.

They called her Aimari, and she was loved by her mothers. They loved her….they so loved her from every curl to the tips of her fingernails, to her very heart.

The three of them lived on the mountain. Happy and content with one another.

Four years after Aimari had come into their lives, Koenai fell ill. A simple cough from the rain had progressed into a hacking rattle that stole her breath away.

As Aimari tended to the fire in hopes of keeping her mother warm, her other mother dabbed the cheeks of her wife, mopping up the blood that dwindled down from her lips.

“I see now,” Koenai croaked. Her crooked fingers wrapped around Thetenmari’s wrist. “I understand…”

“What do you understand, Nai?” Thetenmari whispered, nuzzling her cheek against her wife’s hand. Aimari froze, her body trembling. She had yet to see death. No bug, no critter of any sort, had ever died under Aimari’s watch...and now it was her mother?

Koenai gestured towards the vase. Since the death of her mother, the flowers that remained hadn’t changed at all.

“They’re alive because you love me.They were alive before...when my father loved me. When mama loved me.” She whispered, but her voice caught in her throat. Her hand fell out of Thetenmari’s grasp as she sank into the bed.

A flower broke off at that very moment, and fell onto the windowsill.

The mother and daughter buried her in the garden, next to the grave of Aimari’s grandmother.

“When I did, Mari…Listen to me….” Thetenmari told her daughter later that same day. “When I die, bury me right here, next to her.”

“What am I going to do then?” Aimari trembled, her eyes wide. She didn’t want to think of death. She wanted to live, forever.

Thetenmari knelt at her side and took the child’s hands in her own. “Love someone, my darling. Love them as Koenai and I have loved you. Be it a girl like yourself, or a boy, or someone who is both or neither or somewhere in between, love them. Pass that love on and on and on and it will never die. The flower will stay alive. Forever.”

And so, it did.

Thetenmari died a year later, and Aimari set out.

She fell in love with the prince of a nearby kingdom, and in the more...known fashion, they conceived a child, whom they loved just as deeply as Aimari was loved by her mothers. The boy they had fell in love with a girl in the village.

And so it went...on and on...never ending.

They flower never died.

#Short story #myth #lgbt mythology #wlw #wip #writeblr #writing #words

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elexuscal · 7 years

Text

Fanfic: Guidance

Summary: Sometimes a person can become so lost, they don't even realize they've gone astray. Thankfully, Steven finds someone who's walked this path before. Fandoms: Steven Universe and Legend of Korra Warning for discussion of depression and suicidal tendencies Ao3 link As a birthday present for the awesome @swordtheguy!!

Guidance

The world around Steven is beautiful.

It’s a forest, bigger than any he’s ever seen, with trees that would tower even over Alexandrite. The sun that filters through its canopy is a vivid, shimmering green and gold. There are other lights, too-- fluttering things, birds and dragonflies and winged rabbits. The air is cool, but pleasantly so, like the first days of spring, and rich with the smells of bark, soil, and something almost electric.

Steven’s pretty sure he’s dreaming. After all, he’s never seen anything like this before, on Earth or off of it.

Thing is, he doesn’t usually realize he’s dreaming when it’s a regular dream. Which means this probably isn’t one.

“Hello?” Steven calls out to the world at large. The flittering critters react like a stone thrown into water, radiating away from him. “I’m really sorry for wandering into your head! I didn’t mean to!”

Nobody answers.

With nothing else to do, Steven sets off exploring. Walking along the mossy forest floor, occasionally trying to reach out to one of magical dream animals, but they all flinch away from him. He sighs, and tries calling out names for whose dream this could be. “Dad? Amethyst? Lapis?” Then, a little hopefully, “Connie?"

No answer.

“Fine,” Steven sighs. He flops down on a massive most pillow on the root of an absolutely massive tree.

Now what? he wonders.

He could wake up. Probably best. He’s learned the dangers of wandering in a sub-conscious where he’s not wanted.

But the thought of lying in his dark room, sleepless, is incredibly unappealing. Keeping his eyes shut tight, pretending he can’t hear the Gems creeping around, watching him. Wondering why everyone’s so freaked out, when he’s home and he’s safe. Worrying about the Lars, the one who actually deserves it.

Something flickers in the corner of his eye.

Steven turns. It’s a little plant-flowery-vine thing, pale translucent white, it’s little frond wiggling.

“Oh, hello!” Steven says.

It seems to hear him. At least, it wiggles a little more, stretching towards him.

“I’m Steven,” Steven says, ever polite. “I don’t suppose you know where I am, huh?” If it does, it can’t say, which is maybe to be expected of a plant. Still, he’s not giving up yet. “I was kinda hoping this is the mind of my friend, Connie. She kinda ran off earlier, and…”

The plant seems to look at him expectantly, which is impressive for something without eyes.

“She’s being… frustrating,” Steven confesses. “And I don’t know why! I was gone doing something dangerous, but it was something to save her. And when I came back, she was mad at me! It makes no sense! Doesn’t she get I was protect everyone? Her, my friends, the whole planet... “

The plant reaches out, closer to him, and Steven knows it can understand him.

“She said Stevonnie coulda defeated Aquamarine. But that’s stupid. Alexandrite couldn’t defeat Aquamarine! And she’s the size of godzilla! So if we’d tried, no way we coulda won. We just would have gotten carried off into space, and now we’d be trapped in a zoo. I couldn’t risk everyone. I couldn’t risk her."

The plant stretches, a leafy tendril coming to lay on Steven’s hand. It’s cool. Comforting.

It wants him to keep explaining.

“And I mean-- all the Diamonds really want is Rose Quartz. And who can blame them? She’s a killer. Or maybe she is… I wonder if Zircon is right? That someone else shattered Pink Diamond, and covered it up?” Steven sighs again. The plant squeezes his hand in response. “But then… why does everyone think my Mom did it? Did she lie to them? It wouldn’t be the first time…”

Suddenly, all those thoughts-- those thoughts he hasn’t had the time to look at, the one’s he’s actively been avoiding-- come spilling out of his mouth. Steven lets them. The plant won’t get angry at him, or start crying, or tell him he was irresponsible, or run away. The pant will listen. The plant will understand.

Korra is sharing tea with Fire Lord Izumi and about ten of the highest ranking noble families in the Fire Nation, when a transparent woman appears in the middle of the table to tell Korra that she needs to come quickly.

The nobles erupt into a mixture of surprised expressions, scandalized gasped, annoyed frowns and curious questions.

Korra herself remains completely calm. She’d gotten pretty used to Jinora and other air-benders with spiritual projection.

She catches Izumi’s eye. The Fire Lord nods. m“Do what you must. I am sure we can carry on without you.”

Within five minutes, Korra’s in a nice, quiet, private chamber, eyes crossed, breathing deep, letting her spirit float out of her body and into a whole other world entirely.

What she finds there: vines.

Lots and lots of vines.

“So I’m guessing this is the problem?” Korra asks.

Jinora nods. “Furry-Foot said that it started showing up… well, spirit time doesn’t always correspond perfectly to our world’s, but a few days, at least. It’s spreading fast, snaring everything it touches. Won’t be long until it reaches the Northern Spirit Portal.”

Korra nearly swears. But keeping a positive outlook is important in the Spirit World, so she doesn’t.

She does wish this had happened at basically any other time. When she was at home in Republic City, or visiting family, either in the North or South Pole. But no. It had to have hit while she was in the middle of a tour of the Fire Nation. While she’s gotten better at this spirity stuff, she still would have preferred to actually walk into the Spirit World in her real body. She always feels so… naked, without her bending.

Whatever. No use grousing.

Jinora wants to come, but her form is flickering at the edges. Apparently she was at this for hours, not wanting to interrupt Korra. It’s late in Republic City. She needs her rest. After a little resistance, Jinora’s form vanishes, and Korra heads off alone.

She has to weave and duck her wave through the waves of spirits rushing from the ever encroaching vines-- until, suddenly, she doesn’t have to at all. They’ve all fled, or have become trapped.

Korra makes sure to float a good few feet above the surface.

She stares down at the vines. It doesn’t look like a dark spirit, all roiling blacks and purples, like oil on water. These vines are bright. Shimmering pinks, with sparks of yellow and blue just beneath the surface.

More to the point; they don’t feel like a dark spirit. Those are all-- rage and impotence and frustration and righteous fury turned sour. This-- well, Korra’s not great at sensing emotions, and she’s not going to say there’s no anger there. But more… sadness, maybe… And something almost earnest.

Korra shakes her head.

“Hello,” she says. “I’m the Avatar!. I’m here to talk to you about all the, well, attacking.”

An almost invisible ripple seems to pass through the vines as its attention shifts to her. One of its might tendrils raises up, reaching towards her.

“Woah woah woah!” Korra flings herself back; not sure if this thing can trap her in the Spirit World, but she’s not gonna risk it. “Look, I don’t want to hurt you. But you’re hurting a lot of other people. Can you tell me why? Maybe we can figure something out.”

Curiousity. Confusion. Those are the feelings Korra’s sensing from it.

“Did something upset you? Or hurt you? If something did, I’ll try my best to fix it. But right now, you’re hurting others, and I can’t allow that.”

The plant doesn’t answer.

Because, obviously, it’s a plant. But this is the Spirit World. You never know. Korra really wishes this was one of the spirits which can talk, since it’s a lot harder to do peace negotiations with something with no words or expressions.

The vines ripple and pulse, a pattern moving deeper into the core of its roiling tangle. Korra squares her shoulders, and follows it.

“This better not be a trap,” she mutters.

The vines’ lights glitter in a way that feels like it should be reassuring. Somehow it does little to reassure her.

The lights begin to accelerate, and Korra moves faster in response-- faster and faster. She feels like she’s being pulled-- not by the vines themselves, but by the instinct inside of her, Raava’s light recognising this is where she needs to go.

Around her is a forest, or what used to be one. Now every single inch of it is covered in vines, so thick she can’t make out anything beneath it. Looming in front of her is what must be the core. It reminds her of the great Banyan tree in the swamp, or a distorted reflection of it. A a core of vines, the heart from which this all radiates out.

Korra’s drawn towards it.

Instead of planting painfully straight into it, she flies through, insubstantial. Finds herself in a small chamber. A cocoon, almost.

There’s someone inside. A human face, thick vines from the neck down.

“Hi,” the person-- a boy-- says. At least, he looks and sounds like a boy, although it’s not helpful to assume that kind of thing with spirits. “Were you trying to talk to me?”

“Yes,” says Korra.

“Oh, okay! Sorry, I couldn’t hear you very well.” He peers at her curiously. “Is this your dream?”

“My… dream?”

The boy nods. “Yeah, when this kind of stuff happens, it’s usually because I’m in someone’s dream, and you’re the first person to come and talk to me. Except, when I do end up in someone’s head, it’s always someone I’ve at least heard of before…”

Korra crosses her arms. “This isn’t a dream. This is real. You’re in the spirit world.”

“Spirit world? What’s that?”

“It’s the… world for spirits,” Korra says, unbalanced.

“Wow,” the boy says, eyes going very wide. “Spirts, like ghosts? I didn’t know those were really real.”

The surprise in his voice is so genuine that it makes Korra take a second look at him. “Are you… human?”

“Sorta. I’m half-human.”

“Half human,” Korra echoes.

“How about you?” he asks, looking her up and down. “Are you human?”

“Sorta,” Korra repeats, unable to resist herself. “Half too, I guess. Half-human, half-spirit. I’m the Avatar.”

The pronouncement had earned Korra many responses over the years, from surprise, respect, annoyance and scorn. This boy just smiles and says, “Nice to meet you! I’m Steven.”

“Well, Steven,” Korra says, after a pause. “Are you part-spirit, like me?”

(Maybe it’s possible, after all. Korra’s not sure how, but if Raava managed to fuse with Wan, and again with her, why couldn’t some other spirit figure out some way with another human?)

“No, no. I’m half Gem.”

“Half… gem?” Korra’s mind filled with images of the many jewelry shops she’d visited with Asami. “Like, jade or diamond or something?”

This was probably the wrong thing to say, because Steven grimaced and shook his head vigorously. “No no no no. My Mom was a Rose Quartz.”

“Right,” said Korra, carefully not asking how someone’s mother could be a hunk of pink rock. “Well, I guess it doesn’t really matter what you are. What matters is right now, you’re hurting a lot of people.”

“What?”

“You’re hurting a lot of people,” Korra repeats. “And you have to stop.”

He shakes his head, looking genuinely surprised and panicked. “No, no-- I wouldn’t. How?”

“Those vines,” Korra says, pointing at them and then spreading her hands to encompass the whole plant cocoon around them. “They’ve been spreading out, catching spirits and dragging them dow-”

“What? Where did-- how--” He looks down and his eyes widened. “Where did these come from?” He begins to struggle and struggle. “I can’t get out!”

“I-- know. Well, not exactly.” He bites his lip, still squirming and struggling. “I… I knew the plant was there. I was talking to it. But… it looked different. It was all white and translucent… and then it touched me… And…” He blinks. “I don’t know. Everything’s hazy, until you showed up.”

Korra hums in the back of her throat. Maybe this Steven isn’t the cause of monster-vines after all, but just another victim. Maybe even the very first.

She wills herself to become more solid, more tangible. Gravity pulls her down. The plant-floor beneath her was firm, but slightly springy, like a dojo mat. “I’m gonna try and get you out,” Korra tells Seven. Wrapping two, strong hands the vines where the boy’s shoulders should be, she pulls.

Nothing happens.

She pulls and pulls and pulls, with all of her (quite substantial) strength, and those vines do not budge.

“It’s no use,” Steven says.

“Don’t give up so easily.” Korra pats the vague area of his shoulder. If there’s something she’s learned about spirits, sometimes you need to be indirect about these things. “I’ll figure something out.

“It’s okay,” Steven says. “Don’t worry. It’s not a big deal.”

Korra’s first instinct to point out yes, it is a big deal, and just barrel through to her next idea. This she pauses, and looks the kid over. “What do you mean? You can’t stay here. You must have friends and family to get back to, right?”

“Well… yeah… But don’t worry. They’re all angry at me anyway…. I just put them in danger. They’re better off without me.”

Korra’s frown deepens.

The vines used to be white, but they became pink. That seems important somehow. In the spirit world, a person’s emotions affects the world around them.

She sits down and crosses her legs, like she’s going to meditate, and asks, “Steven, when you were talking to the plant, what exactly did you tell it?"

Steven finds that explaining things to Korra is a lot harder than explaining things to the plant.

That’s her name. Korra, not ‘Avatar’. That part is a title, it turns out. It’s apparently kind of a big deal, where she comes from. There’s only ever one Avatar at a time, and it’s their job to help keep the peace and make sure everyone is protected and happy.

That’s part of the reason explaining things is so hard. The world Korra comes from is really, really different from his. Everything sounds super old fashioned, and there’s no TV or internet or video games. Also, a whole bunch of humans have super powers, and use it to fight and build stuff and heal people. Also, as far as Korra knows, there’s no such thing as Gems. When Steven explains about them, she says it sounds like something out of the “pulp science books” her wife likes.

But that’s only part of the difficulty. Most of it is because… well, the plant just sat there and listened. But Korra can talk, and Korra has things to say.

“So let me get this straight,” Korra says, fixing him her two piercing blue eyes. “You turned yourself in to these space empresses for your Mom’s crimes, and only escaped by a pure miracle?”

“Uh, basically.”

She throws up her hands. “Well, of course everyone is upset with you!”

“Well, they shouldn’t be.” Steven would have crossed her arms, except he couldn’t actually feel or move them anymore.

“Kid,” Korra says, her voice soft. “How would you feel, if one of them had gone and done that in your place?”

Well-- well. That-- he’d have been scared, of course, but the Gems and Connie have all gone and done scary things for him before. Lots and lots of times. But they’ve come back, safe and sound each and every time, and there’s no use worrying about what might have happened. You just smile and put that behind you and move on.

“I’d be happy they’re back,” Steven says, as firmly as possible.

Korra’s expression is skeptical.

Steven huffs and looks away. “You just don’t get it. No one does.”

“But I do. I really, really do.”

Steven hesitates, and glances back at the woman. When he does, her eyes are solemn, distant.

“It happened… oh, ten years ago now? Twelve?” Korra shakes her head, mouth briefly twisting in wry amusement. It fades quickly. “There was group going around; called themselves the Red Lotus. They believed in… well, a lot of things. Some of it was maybe even good. But their methods…” A heavy sigh. “They kidnapped a group of civilians, and threatened to murder them if I didn’t give myself up.”

As much as he can, Steven leans forward. “What… what did you do?”

“A few of my friends thought we could take them. Get to the civilians before they were killed. I didn’t want to take that chance.”

“So… you turned yourself in?”

“I turned myself in.”

The story which followed is horrifying and breathtaking. The battle sounds… brutal, with lava and explosions and flying, and it would have been really cool if people hadn’t died.

But even with poison in her veins, Korra had fought back, and she had one, and clearly everything had turned out just fine.

“So you did the same thing I did,” says Steven.

“Yeah, I did. But here’s the thing… As soon as I woke up, and realized what was going on, I did everything I could to escape.”

“So did I!” exclaims Steven.

“Because of your friend. Lairs, was it?”

“Lars,” he corrects.

“Right. Lars.” Korra nods. “As soon as you realized he was with you, you escaped to make sure he escaped. But the way you were talking…. Steven, when you turned yourself in, did you really plan on fighting back?”

The memories flood him, too strong to ignore; the fear kicking in his chest, the seething anger at himself, the desperation, the determination, the wish wish wish that this could all just go away…

… and despite everything, the paradoxical relief somewhere in the back of his brain, that at least this would be over, at least he wouldn’t have to worry any more, at least…

No. He hadn’t been expecting to ever come home.

Steven doesn’t say it aloud, but it must show on his face. Korra’s expression shifts into-- something. Not a frown, not a smile. She stands.

“You did the same thing as me,” says Korra, “and that’s why I’m so concerned.

“Because after that battle… I was really messed up. Both in the body and the head. I was weak, I could barely walk-- and I hated myself for it. I kept hearing things about what was going on in the world, about what the Red Lotus had done… People were dying, and I was stuck in a bed. I was so, so tired. Of everything. Sometimes I thought… I’d be easier to just… let go. Let another Avatar takeover. A better one.”

Steven wants to say something, but he has no idea what, and there’s no breath left in his lungs.

“It took a couple of years, but with a lot of hard work, my body got better. This--” she tapped her head-- “Not so much. I was sure I was… missing something. So I went looking for it.

“But… I didn’t tell anyone where I was going. I just lied to them, took a boat, and…. Well, I told myself it was for the best. I was getting better. And if they knew what I was up to, then they’d just worry. That was the last thing I wanted. They’d already done so much for me, and I was just dragging them down. They were better off this way.

Steven doesn’t want to listen to this. He wants to close his eyes and put his hands over his ears and block it all off. Or run off. But he can’t do either. He’s just stuck here, listening.

“Here’s the thing,” says Korra. “I wasn’t actually getting any better. I was just-- wallowing. Being angry and sad, and in a weird, terrible way, kinda enjoying it.”

None of these words seem to fit the strong, confident woman standing in front of him. Steven manages to say, “How did you…?"

“I managed to find… well, let’s call her an old friend. She knocked some sense into me. Literally.” Korra laughs. “Then some other friends found me, needing my help. After three years, I finally went home. And let me tell you: my friends were pissed.

“And I can’t blame them! I’d blocked them out of my life and lied to them! It wasn’t fair to them… and it wasn’t fair to me. And they knew that. They were all worried, and one of the ways that came out was anger.”

Steven licks his lip. “So you’re saying…. You think that I’m…"

“Yeah. Look at this.” Korra lays her hands on the thick, pink vines enveloping his body. “In the spirit world, a person’s emotions affect the spirits around them. Anger and sadness can turn spirits dark. Make them attack others.

“From what you’ve told me today, Steven, you seem very caring. You want to protect and help others. You’re sad and angry-- but that sadness and anger is aimed inward, at yourself.

“But that can still hurt ones around you, even if you don’t mean for it or even notice. The vines are lashing out at others the same way. But they’re also hurting you.” She tapped his chest. “What happens if they grow over your mouth, or nose?”

“I…”

Steven wants to argue back. Tell her she’s probably misunderstood. That it’s okay, it’s fine.

But he has to admit, it’s not normal be trapped inside a mass of magical vines.

He stares down at the shimmering, swirling pinks of the plants around him. “Did I really do this to you?”

He thinks he feels a yes, rustling through the plant’s mind.

Steven sags. There are people out there, being hurt, and it’s all his fault.

Just like it was his fault that Aquamarine came for his friends. His fault that Lars is trapped in a Homeworld kindergarten. His fault that he left his family crying in the ocean. His fault that Connie doesn’t even want to talk to him.

The vines creep further up his neck.

“Steven, no.”

Korra’s voice voice is urgent and firm, and close enough that Steven can feel the heat of her breath on his face.

“Are thoughts like that helping anybody?” she asks.

“I-- I guess not,” says Steven.

He’s done things like this before. When Garnet first told him about Future Vision, when he fell off the Sky Arena with Connie.

Connie. She’s always been there, to help him through, when he’s sad or angry or afraid.

And he’d just told her… It was all fine. He hadn’t really tried to-- ask why she was upset. He’s just thought she was being weird and told her to be happy.

She’d never do that to him.

He feels terrible, and for a moment, he wants nothing more than to just curl up in a ball here.

But that won’t actually help her.

Suddenly, he can breath easier. The vines have retreated, and a pressure he hadn’t even

Noticed vanishes from around his chest.

“There you go,” says Korra, warm and encouraging.

She stays with him and talks with him, to help shrink away the rest of the vines. Giving him gentle reminders about how it’s okay, it’s alright, he can do this. Asking him questions about his life. What does he like to do with his spare time? What’s his favourite things about the Gems and his Dad and his friends? What kind of stuff is he looking forward to?

The vines get smaller and smaller and smaller. The pinks and yellows and blues fade and fade and fade.

He’s not sure how long it takes, but eventually he’s left standing where be began. On that patch of moss underneath a giant tree, with that tiny white flower at his feet.

Those flying creatures-- spirits, he knows now-- are getting back up. Stretching their legs and wings and other appendages, fluttering off as quickly as they can. Steven watches them go through slightly watery eyes.

A warm hand presses down on his head.

Steven looks up at Korra. “Sorry,” he says. To her, to the plant, to the whole spirit world around him.

Korra smiles, and nods.

“Now,” she says, straightening a little, “Let’s see if I can get you home.” “That’s alright. I think I can manage that part myself, now.” Already he can feel it-- a sort of tug, a sense of the world fading, as his real body begins to wake up.

But first…

He throws himself forward, and wraps Avatar Korra’s legs in a hug. The fur of her clothes is soft and comforting.

“Thanks,” he mumbles into her stomach.

“Don’t worry about it,” she says, leaning down and hugging him back. “Take care of yourself, okay?”

“I’ll try,” Steven says, and he’s left of the image of her warm, smiling face.

And then he’s in bed, eyes closed, wrapped in a soft duvet. He can heard people moving around downstairs-- clicks and clangs accompanied by sharp whispers, suggesting the Gems are trying to make him breakfast without disturbing him. The thought makes him smile a little.

His stomach growls. He would really appreciate having breakfast, and then going back to bed for an actual, proper sleep.

But he can’t, not yet.

Eyes opening, he reaches out for his phone, resting on his bedside table. He finds the right number near the very top. He types,

Hey Connie I’m sorry Can we talk?

#steven universe #su #lok #korra #fanfic

13 notes · View notes

dekinswritings · 7 years

Text

LWA - Maid for you

Akko is invited to spend a week at Diana’s estate. Things don’t go exactly as planned. Diakko

Word count: 3.1k

A/N: Traditionally late as ever, happy birthday @bcheddar13! I wanted to get this done much earlier but I got caught up with IRL stuff and episode 23.

[Ao3] [FF.net]

CRASH.

The spring break plans had been simple: when Akko found out that Lotte would be going back home to her parents’ shop and that Sucy would be going to a mountain, which name Akko couldn't remember, to do mushroom hunting, Akko had been left alone in her dorm room to do absolutely nothing during her week off. That was until somehow word had reached Diana that she was on her own and invited to accompany her to the Cavendish estate for the duration of Spring Break. Weighing her options of being on her own in Luna Nova and eating only potato dishes for a whole week or going to Diana's place and get to eat all sorts of delicious meals including, but not limited, to steaks and freshly baked bread, Akko was quick to take Diana’s offer.

It was all supposed to be simple until that ear piercing shatter.

“Miss Kagari! Do you have any idea of what you have done?!” Head maid Anna questioned Akko who stood next to the remains of the broken vase on the floor.

“W-well it's not my fault someone put that thing in my way! How was I supposed to see that if I was walking backwards!” Akko defended herself, pointing at the countless pieces on the floor before pointing at Diana. “Why didn't you warn me?!”

“I did, Akko,” Diana frowned when she was suddenly accused. “But you were so distracted that you didn't listen.”

“Besides, who cares? It was just a vase, there must be like a hundred of those here. Right Diana?” Akko asked with a hopeful voice.

“Just a vase?! Young lady! The thing you just destroyed was a family heirloom! It was the very same vase the Cavendish had used to carry healing spring water for the wounded in times of need!”

“Truly a one of a kind treasure, and you just broke it into dozens of pieces.”

“W-well, it's not my fault someone put such a valuable thing right there in the open!” Akko stood her ground, pointing at the pedestal where the vase had once rested, which also laid broken in the floor.

“And I do hope you have the money to repay for such an invaluable family heirloom. How exactly do you plan to compensate for it young lady?”

Under such an intense gaze from the Cavendish maid, Akko couldn't help but to chuckle nervously and look at Diana pleadingly.

“Anna, I think I have an idea of how Akko can repay for the vase.”

Diana’s tone of voice told Akko that whatever was that she had in mind, it wouldn't be a great idea.

“Wait, why do I have to be Diana’s personal maid?!” Akko demanded to know as she was getting dressed up in a maid uniform.

“You should be grateful that the Young Mistress has given you this opportunity,” Anna huffed as she finished tying the apron on Akko’s uniform. “You are certainly in no economic position to pay for the vase, are you Miss Kagari?” “If that vase was sooo important, why hasn't Diana just fixed it with magic? I'm sure someone as taaalented as her could do it. Or let me try!”

“Unfortunately magic can not fix that vase. To prevent any sabotage or poisoning of the healing water it was made with a special clay that nullified any magic directed to it and its contents.” Anna explained as she kept on fixing details on Akko’s uniform.

Akko grumbled as she tried to think of what to say next and ended up sighing defeatedly. “Well, whatever. At least the uniform’s kinda cute,” she said and looked at the mirror once Anna was done dressing her up. It was a very simple design, like the one all the other female servants in the estate, except this one had a knee-length skirt and a few more ribbons in the collar and the upper arms.

“Why do I have to be Diana’s personal maid anyways? Couldn’t someone else be that?” Akko stuck out her tongue in slight disgust at the thought of serving Diana as some sort of lackey.

“Yes, Miss Kagari, but the Young Mistress specifically requested it.” “Eh?! Diana did?!”

“Yes, she explained to me that because as her personal maid you would not need to do any sort of domestic chores such as cleaning and cooking. She said that you would end up making a mess if you were made to do those kind of tasks.”

“She what?! I am good at chores!” Akko protested and huffed, “Professor Finnelan makes me all sort of things like broom maintenance and cleaning duties!”

“Well, I am certain she also designated you as her personal servant so you could be with her throughout your stay here. I’m sure she would not want her guest doing all sorts of labor and also be away from her.”

Akko hummed in deep thought as a response, thinking about what the maid had just said before she felt a slap on her back. “Ow! What’s wrong with you?!” Akko hissed.

“What’s wrong with me? What’s wrong with you! Your posture is all wrong! A maid needs to look proper and always have her back straight!” Anna put a hand on Akko’s shoulder and the other on her back and straightened her. “The Young Mistress might have been kind enough to go easy on you but that does not mean I will allow you to be a slouch as a maid! And wipe the horrendous frown off your face Miss Kagari!”

The little hope that Akko had for something fun as a maid had been crushed by constant berating of the proper etiquette of a maid: how to stand up, how to speak, how to walk, how to breathe, how to brew tea, how to serve tea, how much sugar Diana liked in her tea; the moment Anna had left her sights Akko slouched and let out a groan.

“This is gonna suck, I can already tell.”

“Akko? Is that you? Come in”

Akko covered her mouth as she realized that she had been left right outside Diana’s bedroom. There was no escaping it now. “Y-yeah, what’s up?” she opened the door slightly and took a peek. She almost fell down when Diana fully opened the door.

“I need you,” Diana’s words were so direct but also soft that Akko felt her cheeks get involuntarily warmer. “... to fix my bed, please.”

Akko was about to yell that she should do it herself, but reminding herself of what she was wearing, she instead let out a small groan and walked towards the bed to tidy it up.

“And when you're done accompany me for breakfast,” Diana finished brushing her hair in front of her vanity. As Akko finished fixing the bed she took a closer look of the bedroom. Diana seemed very well sufficient and in no need of a maid; she wondered if she had been always like that or if her stay in Luna Nova had made her like this. Why did she even need her as a personal maid? Akko frowned, thinking of how she could be asleep right now.

The trip to the dining room had been a long walk of awkward silence. Awkward for Akko at the very least, as Diana simply remained silent as she led the way through the hallways of the estate. Now that she thought about it, Akko would've lost her way in this place just looking for the bathroom.

Once they arrived to the dining room, Diana took her seat near a corner of the table and Akko sat on the other side of the corner.

“Breakfast, yay!” Akko cheered as she watered at whatever could possibly come out of the kitchen.

“Miss Kagari!” Anna’s scolding voice made the brunette jump in her seat, “servants shall eat after the Cavendish have eaten! Now please, get off that chair and-”

“Anna,” Diana spoke up, interrupting the head maid, “it's alright, Akko will have breakfast with me.”

“But Young Lady, as your personal maid I simply can not allow her to-”

“Anna,” Diana repeated her name, this time with a louder voice.

“I-i understand Young Lady, forgive me,” Anna bowed her head and walked away into the neighbouring kitchen before coming out with several other servants to serve breakfast.

“Yay~” Akko smiled as she had her plate served in front of her. A traditional western style breakfast was a welcome change from the starch based diet of Luna Nova.

“Akko,” Diana called right before the other could start to dig in. “Tea,” she said while motioning to her empty teacup.

Akko, while making sure it scraped the floor, got off her chair and took the teapot that was very well in reach for Diana. “How many sugarcubes, Diana?” she asked and tried to keep her voice as calm as possible.

“That's Mistress to you Miss Kagari!” Anna yelled at her again.

“E-er… m-mistress…” she had to force the word out of her mouth.

“Two, please,” Diana almost sounded pleased, which drew Akko even more on the edge. Doing her best to keep her disgust inside her gut, Akko put the two sugarcubes in the tea and stirred the tea for a few moments.

“Done, miiiiiss… t-tress,” Akko moved the teacup closer to Diana. Diana took the teacup and took a sip from it before putting it down.

Without even a nod of acknowledgement, Akko went back to her seat with a ruined mood. At least the food had been good, even if she had had to serve tea one more time.

Thankfully for Akko the rest of the day had carried on without much nerve wracking duties happening. After breakfast, Diana had retreated to her room and all she had to do hand Diana research material and occasionally put back a few books in their respective spots. They only left the bedroom for lunch and dinner and bathroom trips.

“Well, I suppose it’s time to call it a day,” Diana announced and closed the book she was reading. “Thank you for today.”

“Finally!” Akko raised her arms in celebration and then unceremoniously let out a long yawn.

“Well, I’ll be in you care tomorrow again. I expect you to be here at nine in the morning.” Akko nodded and was about to leave before Diana spoke up again, “oh, and Anna had your belongings moved to the neighboring bedroom, so you can be always be quickly available.”

“Eeeh…” Well, at least I won’t get lost now. “Well, good night Dian- er… mistress.”

“Good night, Akko.”

Two days passed by without any sort of incident. Well, incidents that didn’t involve Akko tripping and spilling tea, knocking off stacks of books, scaring off wild critters for magic practice, or break a table. The only thing that Akko didn’t seem to screw up was stirring Diana’s tea after putting in the two sugarcubes.

“Akko,” Diana put down her book and turned to her personal maid, who was sitting on her bed and idly waving her wand in the air.

“Hmm? What’s up Diana?” Akko didn’t even bother to look at the blonde.

“Andrew is going to stay for tonight, he’ll be arriving just in time for dinner.” Diana got off her chair and walked to her closet and going through her clothes.

“Andrew? Why is he coming?” Akko put away her wand, Diana having gotten her attention. “Isn’t dinner in a couple of minutes too?”

“He’s simply passing by on his way to some vacation home. He’ll be leaving early morning.” Diana explained as she looked between two dresses to put on. She ended up going for a light blue one. “Yes it is, that’s why I’m changing.” “Oh, okay,” Akko nodded and hopped off the bed, but before she left Diana spoke again.

“I-I’ll be needing your help to put on the dress.” Akko swore she saw Diana blush for a moment, but Diana had turned away.

“Eh?! W-why me?!” Akko pointed at herself as her cheeks got redder by the second.

“B-because that’s one of your duties as a personal maid. Now turn around and don’t look, I will let you know when I need your help.”

Akko quickly nodded and turned away from Diana; once the latter has made sure she wasn’t looking, she started to undress. Diana felt her cheeks getting hotter and started regretting not just telling Akko to leave. Akko tried to get her mind busy with anything but Diana, so she started to look at anything that caught her attention in the bedroom. Unfortunately, all she found instead was Diana’s reflection on the vanity next to the desk. Her entire face went beet red as her eyes were glued on the reflection on the mirror. Her mind should’ve been telling her to look away but all it could think of how pretty Diana was. The brunette let out a relieved sigh she didn’t know she was holding when Diana started to put on her dress.

“Akko?”

“Y-y-yeah?!” Akko felt her heart jump out of her chest when her name had suddenly been called.

“Your help, please,” Diana tapped her shoulder and turned around, showing a zipper on the back of the dress that had yet to be closed. Gulping down her nervousness, Akko’s had trembled as she reached out for the zipper and closed it. “Now, Andrew will be arriving any second now, so let’s get going.”

As Diana left, Akko put her hand on her chest as she tried to calm down her rapid heartbeats and cool off her head.

By the time they made it to the dining room, Andrew was already on a chair waiting for dinner.

“Andrew,” Diana’s greeting was short and polite with a nod.

“Diana, thanks for having me tonight, you’re a real life saver.” Andrew smiled until he noticed something, or someone, “Akko? Is that you?”

“Andrew! It’s been a while.” Akko grinned and walked up to him.

“What’s with the maid outfit?” He asked as he took a closer look at it, “don’t tell me Luna Nova has been short staffed and has started to turn their students into cleaning staff.”

“What? No, I’m just Diana’s maid,” Akko laughed at Andrew’s assumption. “It’s a long story.”

“Personal maid? Is that right, Diana?”

“Yes, I made her into my personal maid,” Diana began to explain as she sat down, “I doubt she can do any proper house chores so I made her serve me.”

“Huh?! I can do anything if I put my heart into it you know!” Akko crossed her arms and turned away from Diana.

“Well, it oddly suits you, Akko,” Andrew said as he noticed smaller details on her uniform. “You look… better.”

“At least someone knows how to compliment me,” the maid huffed before smiling at Andrew, “Thank you for your kind words, Master Andrew~” Akko bowed and raised her skirt a little bit.

Diana gasped and was about to retort but was cut off by plates of food being served in front of them.

“Oh Master Andrew, let me serve you some water,” Akko spoke in a way courteous way that Diana had never heard before and saw her pour him his drink.

The dinner had devolved into Akko servicing Andrew for the whole meal, properly doing so as Anna had told her on her first day, all the while Akko stared at an increasingly flustered Diana. Andrew was slightly confused by all of this, but banter with Akko kept him entertained throughout the dinner.

Diana had barely touched her food before she put down her fork and stood up.

“I’ve lost my appetite, so I’ll excuse myself. Enjoy your meal you two.” She spoke sharply and to the point before pacing out of the dining room.

“Akko, were you trying to upset her? Because I haven’t seen her that upset since Daryl tried to sell family heirlooms to my father.”

“Well… I uh…” Akko found herself at a loss for words. She certainly was trying to throw some jabs at Diana, but she never wanted to get her that angry. “I should go after her,” she whispered before getting up and following Diana.

Akko didn’t see Diana anywhere from outside the dining room, but her gut told her just where to find her, and her gut was never wrong. Most of the time. Making haste, she headed for Diana’s bedroom.

“Diana?” Akko called out as she knocked on the door of the bedroom. “Are you there? I’m coming in.”

Akko found Diana sitting on the edge of her bed, looking down at the floor.

“Diana?” she approached her slowly, eventually sitting next to her.

“Did you hate it that much?” Diana’s voice was barely a whisper. Akko only made a confused sound, so she clarified. “Did you hate being my personal maid that much? If so, I’m sorry.”

“E-eh? N-no! I didn’t hate it! … that much.” Akko put her hand on Diana’s and tried to reassure her with a small squeeze. “Don’t apologize, I should be apologizing. I tried to upset you too hard.”

“Well, it worked. Congratulations, Akko,” Diana’s voice seemed out of breath. Clearly still upset, Akko tried squeezing her hand again.

“You just seemed so convinced that I couldn’t do a good job that I wanted to prove you wrong.” Akko explained herself, now ashamed of herself for trying to do so the way she did.

“Well, you successfully made me jealous. Good job.”

“Wait, jealous? You were jealous?!”

Diana’s face quickly went from gloom to an embarrassed red. “Y-yes, is there anything wrong with that?!” she snapped, catching Akko off guard. “I invited you here to spend time with me and you seem to have the most fun with Andrew! Is it so wrong to feel jealous?!”

For the second time today, Diana had managed to flabbergast Akko. All the brunette could do was stare at Diana as she tried to put together what to say.

“Well, you also made me dress up like this and do all of those maid things.”

“Yes, because Anna wouldn’t have had it otherwise, despite trying to convince her that there was no point in getting so upset over some old vase.” Diana sighed and looked away, finally seeming to calm down. “B-besides, I addressed you as my personal maid so you could keep me company…” she explained as her cheeks remained red.

“Aww, Diana!” Akko threw herself over Diana and pulled her into a hug, earning another bright blush from the blonde. “Still, I’m sorry about all the stuff with Andrew.”

Diana took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I-it’s okay, I forgive you. I was at fault too.”

“Weeell, I’m still your maid you know!” Akko pointed out as she let go of Diana. “Anything I can do you make it up to you, Mistress?”

Diana thought for a moment and started to feel her face getting hotter.

“W-well, Akko,” Diana took a deep breath and looked at her, “w-would you help undress me out of this dress?”

A/N: I wanted to make the interaction between Akko and Andrew longer and more detailed but you probably wouldn’t have liked that. Special thanks to @nontann for betaing!

#diakko #dianakko #LWA #little witch academia #atsuko kagari #kagari atsuko #diana cavendish #fanfic

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brokenmusicboxwolfe · 7 years

Text

I saw:

Star Wars- If you don’t know the story you won’t care. Why bother summerizing when you can rant!

Yep, I still call the first film “Star Wars” or “the original Star Wars”. Look, I’m old enough that as a little girl I saw it more than once in it’s original release back in 1977, and it was just called Star Wars then. It was called that for a long time. Wanna see how much history I had with Star Wars before the rebranding?

When I saw my first academy awards (or actually fell asleep a few minutes in...I was little!) hoping to see it win Best Picture. Halloween and me in a Princess Leia costume Mom made me and then R2D2 on my birthday cake. I saw The Empire Strikes Back and The Return of the Jedi at their releases, each at least twice. My family had the 8mm cut down film version, then I worked my ass off one summer to buy the films at rental price, then eventually upgrading to a VHS widescreen set. I’d seen the movies 100 times each before the 20th anniversary, and I know because I counted! The Star Wars Holiday Special (yes, it’s original airing), the fun animated Droids and Ewoks, the so bad I never wanted to see them again Ewok tv movies, tons of making of specials and guest appearances of people from the films. The entire run of the original Marvel comics. I fell asleep to the music on 8track every night and then during the day I’d play my drums and cymbals to the vinyl soundtrack. (My parents were very understanding! LOL) I’d also listen to the “Story of Star Wars”record (flip as the tractor beam pulls them in), that Meco disco album, and upgraded the soundtracks, first to tape and then CD...more than once. I had lightsaber battles so feirce with my brother we had to get new ones to replace the smashed up old ones. My room had several posters and I wore Star Wars tee shirts. I collected tons of action figures, dolls, plushes, model ships, blasters and the like, right up until the figures went on clearance post Jedi (just found an old package yesterday between books). Too much merchandise to count. I wore my Han Solo vest every day one year in high school, purchased through the fan club I’d been a member of since it started. I read every single book or magazine to do with the movie or spun off it I could find. And through all of it back then Star Wars was still the default title of the first film....

So, as you can tell, I had a long history of just knowing it as Star Wars. Childhood. Teen. Young adult. While the “A New Hope” subtitle was added to the crawl in one of the rereleases, it was just Star Wars when anyone talked about it. I can’t remember now exactly when the rebranding got aggressive, with the anniversary in 1997 or the release of the prequels, but for at least 20 years I only ever heard anyone call it Star Wars.

When Lucasfilms started to try to make “A New Hope” a thing I kind of rolled my eyes. No one was confused by the film series for Planet of the Apes, The Thin Man or The Pink Panther sharing a name with their first films, so why bother? Now, I can get that after the subtitle got added to the opening crawl that it would make sense technically to make the titling of the films uniform. But I also knew it didn’t matter. It isn’t like it was a person asking you to use another name. The only people that cared were the more obsessive fans that liked to be smug about knowing the “real” title and George BLOODY Lucas. I rolled my eyes and doubted people would rewrite their memories just to make them happy.

I was wrong.

And so here we are at a time where people mock you if you call it “Star Wars” insteas of “A New Hope” So why do I still defiantly cling to the original title? Because it’s part of the mutilation and rewriting Lucas started doing. I’d been bothered reading interviews when I was a girl where he would contradict himself on the stories behind the stories, going so far as to claim things were “always” intended that reading early drafts showed no mention of. But ok, I knew creation is a process and some people want everyone to think it’s actually just a miraculous whoosh springing out fully formed. And despite the fact I knew full well that other people worked on the films, in the case of Empire and Jedi other directors and writers, I still shrugged it off and gave him the ultimate credit for everything. He was flawed and human, with an ego under that mild exterior, some of what he said was total BS and maybe my brother was right after watching an interview when he said the god of the Star Wars universe had no one anymore to question him...but still I trusted Lucas.

I was wrong.

Never mind the mind blowingly huge problems with the prequels, my disilusioning started right here, with the Special Editions. Most of the changes were pointless but some actually seemed to damage the films. Take my top three grumbles:

1) Tatoonie should NOT be a rosy pink! Before it was bright clear sunlight, unrelenting hot, parching and desolate, unforgiving...now it’s all pretty, colorful and warm. It reduces the sunbaked heat, but more important the dry barren sense of a colorless place Luke would ache to leave.

2) Han’s conversation with Jabba should not be in this film. I know it was filmed originally and cut for technical reasons, I’ve had a bootleg of it since my first convention, but loosing it was a good thing. Jabba should remain a shadowy unseen threat, someone that wants Han’s hide enough it looms over our scoundrel until the third film. The reveal of Jabba gains power in Jedi because you don’t know the extent of his powers but he’s supposed to be scary and we see him up in a position or authority over the room. Here Jabba looses power by not only being on the same level as Han and seeming smaller, but for crying out loud there is the gag of Han stepping on his tail while seeming completely unconcerned! And speaking of people being reduced...Boba Fett is this mysterious bounty hunter not just some damn henchman to Jabba. What part of mysterious don’t they get!

3) Mos Eisley does not need to me so cluttered up with CGI characters! This is a middle of nowhere planet with a scattered population and a climate many people wouldn’t enjoy. Sure it’s a spaceport but with buildings, many of which are at least partly underground as relief from the environment. The streets actually gain a sense of unease by being underpopulated, giving a sense that people (of whatever sort) could be watching from doorways. Like you could be attacked and no one would notice. But nope, now it’s bustling, so full of effects life that they actually wreck the look of shots by having gratitous critters and droids moving to block us seeing our characters.

Yes, I didn’t mention the Greedo thing. It doesn’t bother me as much as the rest, but you all know that if Lucas HAD wanted to film it that way originally it would have been just as easy as what we got.

Still, I wouldn’t be bothered at all if this was just an alternate version. Blade Runner, E.T. and others have given you a choice of which version to watch in DVD sets. I was sure both versions would stay easily available.

I was wrong.

Lucas decided that whatever version was his current take should be the only one out there. The DVDs with the original (close enough) cuts long ago went out of print (and in my case the DVDs failed!) so if you want to see Star Wars not going to look at all like my first 100 times seeing it.

And that’s my problem. Rejiggered versions have become the only version. If out of preference, curiosity or nostalgia you want to see something from before the monkeying around you have to look to illegal means. As far as Lucas is concerned he would like everyone to pretend any prior versions existed. History is rewritten and we aren’t supposed to grumble. All hail the genius of Lucas or some rot and forget anything you saw on screen and anything he said before. And it bugs me because I resent being told to forget

Retitling the movie, not subtitle but what we are supposed to call it, is just a tiny part of the emperor’s dictates. And my refusal to use that name is symbollic. In fact this insignificant gesture is a bit like something....Now what’s the word?

Ah yes.

Rebellion.

LOL

But not to worry. My generation will die off eventually. Those that grew up without special editions, prequels, and so forth will die out. In 100 years everyone will call it “A New Hope” and will not even realize anything was ever changed. But for now some of us still remember another Star Wars.......

One last note: I think the double whammy of the SEs and the prequels did something I thought impossible....I fell out of love with Star Wars. I rarely watch it since I only have the SE and when I do I spend some of the time grumpy at alterations I don’t like and all of it a bit empty. It’s the only time in my life that I’d ever stopped loving anyone or anything. For me usually live cools but the warmth remains to quickly rekindle. When the Force Awakens came out I felt my affection return a bit to the franchise for the first time this century and I thought my love could be reborn. But tonight, rewatching Star Wars, I realized something has been permanently lost. It no longer hurts to watch but the heart has gone out of it for me........

#movies #star wars

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katedoesfics · 4 years

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Honey & Vinegar: Chapter 8

It was late in the afternoon when Pip made their way out of the forest. But as luck would have it, they would not be able to hurry back to the farm without bumping into a grump face. Shane was the last person Pip wanted to talk to, but it appeared there was no way to avoid it.

He was standing by the lake, beer in hand, and he turned to glare at Pip for a moment as they emerged out of the woods. Pip hesitated; their gaze moved from Shane, to the beer can in his hands, and back. They averted their gaze, quickening their pace in hopes of not causing trouble, but to their surprise, Shane spoke.

“Hey.”

Pip paused, but offered no greeting.

“So, are you one of the good fairies?”

Pip’s brows furrowed. “What?”

Shane shrugged nonchalantly. “Jas told me you taught them about fairies. Said there are bad ones called Imps. So, are you an Imp or a Fairy?”

“An Imp.”

Shane’s gaze narrowed on Pip, and Pip grinned.

“Ah,” Shane said in understanding. “You’re fucking with me.”

“If that’s what you want to think,” Pip said. They walked past Shane, making their way back to the farm.

“Wait.”

Once more, Pip paused, glancing over their shoulder. Shane seemed to study them for a moment, their brows knit together deep in thought.Then, his face softened and he pulled his gaze away.

“See ya around,” he said simply.

Pip took the opportunity to hurry back to the farm, unwilling to push their luck further with Shane. Though they hadn’t really interacted much before, Pip was certain that Shane did not like them. However, it seemed it was just as Robin had said. Shane simply had a grumpy personality, whatever the reason may be. But Pip was unwilling to test him further, and eagerly escaped to the safety of the farm.

For the rest of the week, Pip fell into a comfortable and familiar routine. In the early morning, they tended to the farm. They watered their crops, constructed a beehive, and got everything together in the newly constructed shed to make beer, wine, and mead. Once the chores were finished, Penny arrived with Jas and Vincent, and Pip spent the next few hours teaching the kids about the crops, farming, and showing them even a little of their fairy magic.

They took to spending time with Penny, helping her walk the children home in the afternoons. Marnie always listened eagerly as Jas excitedly told her about their day, and from time to time, even Shane seemed to listen in, though he never said anything more to Pip.

When bringing Vincent home, Pip finally met Jodi and Sam, nameless faces they had only seen briefly before. And through Sam, Pip met Abigail once more, along with Sebastian, a new face Pip had yet to see.

On the weekends when Penny did not teach Vincent or Jas, Pip often found her either sitting alone under a tree with a book, or with another girl they quickly learned was Maru, Robin’s daughter.

It had been a few weeks since Pip moved back to the valley, and between the farm and teaching the kids, Pip had hardly had a chance to rest. It was the first weekend where they allowed themselves a break, and a good thing at that, too, as the first warm days of summer were starting to approach.

Pip took advantage of their freedom, deciding to explore the valley further, making their way north to explore the mountains, while also steering clear of the fairies to the south in the forest. Pip was still slightly bitter from their last interaction with Rem and thought it best to keep their distance for a little while longer.

With the approaching summer, the bushes along the base of the mountain had started to flourish, providing the critters around the valley with access to fresh forage, including berries and mushrooms. As pip walked along the paths of the valley, they absentmindedly popped a few of the berries into their mouth, making a mental note to come back later to pluck as many as possible to use with their craft beer.

Pip, however, was not the only one enjoying the warm spring day, or the bounty the mountains provided the valley. They quickly recognized Linus at the edge of the river, and Pip hesitated. Their last interaction with Linus proved that he was distrustful of Pip, and bitter due to something that had happened to his tent. Pip felt a pang of guilt for the homeless man, and though Pip generally tried to avoid social interactions, they wanted nothing more than to prove to Linus that they were not a threat.

They were in the middle of trying to decide how to proceed whenLinus turned, likely sensing their presence. To Pip’s surprise, Linus offered them a smile in greeting.

“The berries around here are delicious,” Linus said, then pointed to the corner of his mouth.

Pip blinked at him, then wiped at their mouth with the back of their hand, removing a bit of leftover berry with it. They blushed slightly.

“I’m sorry,” Pip said quickly. “I didn’t mean to intrude.”

Linus frowned. “I don’t own this land. Anyone can come on through.”

Pip hesitated. “Is your tent alright?”

Linus looked at them questioningly, then the realization washed over this face. He cleared his throat. “Yes,” he said. “It seems whoever was bothering me found something better to do with their time.”

Pip looked around them, unsure of what else to say to the man. “Do you like living here?”

“I do,” Linus said carefully. “Most people don’t realize it, but I live like this by choice.”

“You do?”

Linus nodded. “I like living out here in the open air. Being one with nature… it’s freeing, really. You can learn to survive here in the wild. I have. I have everything I need, and more. Nature plays a wonderful tune if you can only learn to listen, isn’t that right?”

Pip shrugged. “Sure. I guess you’re right.”

Linus smiled. “The people here seem nice, but they avoid me. People are afraid of the unknown.” He nodded at Pip. “You know what that’s like.”

“You’re right,” Pip started. “But I’ve found that they’re willing to learn.”

Linus nodded. “I’ve seen you with those kids. It makes me happy to see them so willing to learn from you and being so accepting of you.”

“You could have that, too.”

“I’m happy alone,” he said. “I don’t need friends. I prefer to travel around, see the world.” he let out a brief sigh. “But I suppose it couldn’t hurt to be a little more… open to people.”

“I guess I could be, too,” Pip said.

Linus’s smile returned. “In time,” he said. “We all do things at our own pace. Just remember to stop and remember why you’re here every now and then.” He paused thoughtfully. “And try not to take all the berries. I do enjoy them this time of year.”

*****

Pip took Linus’s words to heart, working up the courage to make their way to the saloon that evening. It was far livelier than they expected, despite Robin’s warning to them. In fact, there were even faces that Pip had not yet seen.

Leah was already two glasses of wine in when Pip walked in, and she happily bade her way to them, taking them by the wrist and pulling Pip to her table where a blond haired man sat.

“I didn’t think you were ever going to come out of that cabin of yours!” Leah exclaimed. “Look, Eli, this is Pip! The one I was telling you about!”

“It’s Elliott,” he said, smiling sheepishly at Pip. “She’s a little tipsy, don’t mind her.”

Leah blew him off with a wave of her hand and scoffed. “Please,” she said. “It’s not like alcohol brings out some wild side of me. I’m always like this!”

“She’s got a point there.”

Leah turned to Pip. “Lemme buy you a drink. What’s your poison?”

“Uh,” Pip started. “Beer’s fine.”

“One beer, coming up!” And with that, Leah hurried to the bar.

“So,” Elliott started. “How are you adjusting to everything?”

“Uh, fine, I guess,” Pip said. “I’ve never been much of a farmer,” they admitted. “But it’s not too bad.”

“It must come naturally for you,” he said.

“Well, I wasn’t exactly a straight A fairy,” Pip muttered, and Elliott laughed.

“Is that a thing?”

“No,” Pip said. “Not really.”

Thankfully, the conversation did not go further as Leah returned with three bottles in hand. “Beer for everyone!” she exclaimed.

“Well, then,” Elliott started, lifting his bottle in toast. “To new friends, hm?”

#stardew valley #sdv #fic #fanfic #honey and vinegar #h&v

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apostleshop · 6 years

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'Let us help you heal,' the trees told me

Great News has been shared on https://apostleshop.com/let-us-help-you-heal-the-trees-told-me/

'Let us help you heal,' the trees told me

I’ve always loved trees. Growing up on the Plains of northeastern Montana, I experienced plentiful patches of them along the Missouri River, which wound southward of town. Cottonwoods closer by snowed “cotton” in the spring, spilling into puddles in the streets and turning them fluffy white.

But for vast stretches of the land around us, in a town named for a tree — Poplar — these beauties of nature were in relatively short supply. It was upon looking down on the flourishing trees in Minnesota during a plane ride that I determined I’d live near lots of trees someday, and chose Minnesota for college.

Eventually, though, I ended up in North Dakota, on the edge of the Red River, settling again on a mostly-treeless landscape, but which boasts the most glorious sunsets.

Thankfully, Minnesota is nearby, and the trees and lakes it harbors, a short drive away. We have become especially smitten by a particular proliferation of them at Itasca State Park, a place that where the headwaters of the Mighty Mississippi rest, and host of many summer family retreats.

After a few years off, this summer we found ourselves back in this bounteous place, surrounded once again by a colorful palette of wildflowers, birds which happily flitted about and filled the woods with song, along with chirping squirrels and myriad other critters, glistening lakes that wooed and refreshed, and, of course, the towering, telling trees.

This year, the trees spoke more profoundly to me than ever as I wandered through cemented paths and narrower dirt trails, allowing the restorative green to envelop and fill me.

Our trip happened around the time we were learning about a rather ugly scandal in the Church. Some of it had been hinted at earlier, but to confront the reality left part of me broken. I know I’m not alone in this feeling. Given this, the woods seemed especially, in an rather urgent way, necessary. I needed their calm. I needed what they had to tell me.

Trees don’t speak words, but wisdom. -@peacegardenmama Click To Tweet

Trees don’t speak words, but wisdom. The forest holds many visual stories. Some of the trees were bent over, or showed erosion. One could imagine the many winters, the violent storms, that left them twisted or mangled.

Some just spoke of beauty. In trunks, I saw the touch of the divine. It caught me, and I found myself breathing and walking more slowly.

We stayed one night more than usual, and this extra evening gave us time to sink just a little deeper into the peace of this place. I wanted to hold it here, for myself, and perhaps, hopefully, for you, too. We all need these reminders of God’s bounty.

I took much of this in during the quiet, but in moments, the sounds of children entered the atmosphere. I welcomed them. There was the boy on a bike with his mother, chatting excitedly as they went along a path together. And at night, as the sun dipped, the sounds of children playing games, giggling before bedtime.

Our priest recently visited the Giant Sequoias in the Sierra Nevada, and wrote about his experience of them, calling them “cathedral-like.” “Everyone recognizes this — that they are in the presence of something special,” he observed. “People almost universally become quiet — voices are stilled as they look and wonder, and hushed when they speak.”

Though I’ve never been there, I could imagine it, based on our time at Itasca and the exhale it brought. He, however, mentioned how the presence of children could possibly make it harder for parents to appreciate the silence of the trees. My response differed; those small voices struck me as blessings. Maybe it’s because our children are no longer little, and I could see it from another vantage point.

No, rather than a distraction, the voices of the children echoing through the forest made me happy. I realized that children these days have so few chances to be in nature and just breathe. Parents these days, too, are running around trying to keep up with life in our modern age. It’s not easy, for either.

I realized that God wants to give us this gift. Our souls need the green, need the tall trees to whisper perspective and beauty into our hearts. We need, too, the calming effect of these trees next to a lavish lake near sunset.

As much as I realize we are invading the home of millions of critters, it didn’t escape me this visit that this was meant for us humans, too, and maybe most of all. I found myself feeling deeply grateful for those who, in their wisdom, make sure there are places like this for us to dwell, even for short bursts.

The trees whispered to me, over and over. They whispered simplicity. They chanted of the wide perspective we long to remember. They recalled other moments, in childhood, searching for insects, and watching my dad watch the birds. They told me to rest a while, and my body and soul responded in thanksgiving.

I came away convinced we all need a little time in the woods. We all need a chance to enfold ourselves in the trees, and let them speak to us. They want to heal us. It is God’s wish that we are healed. And if we listen, it’s quite possible the trees will draw us closer into the bosom of God.

Q4U: What is your relationship with trees? Your favorite memory of reveling in them?

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